Taking Your Picture
by Giselle d'Angouleme
Summary: When her world comes crashing down, her camera is all she has left. Story 2 in the Tête-à-Tête Universe
1. have you got it in you?

Taking Your Picture_  
>It takes a lot to be always on form...<em>

"It is going to be a clear and cloudless evening. The temperature will drop by about ten degrees tonight, so please make sure to dress warmly," informed the weatherman as he stood at the foreground of a simulated night sky. He was generously encased in thirty-two inches of silicone and plastic, thousands of microscopic LED lights projecting his form as he recited the night's forecast to a furnished, but empty living room.

The television was mounted directly to the wall; a shelf filled with home theater equipment stood below it. A pair of self-standing speakers flanked the shelf, projecting sound quite nicely to whoever would be sitting at the austere black couch across them. Only a glass coffee table stood in the way. The other half of the room remained empty, and the walls remained unadorned; a plain off-white color. Perhaps as an attempt to give the sterile quarters some life, a potted ficus stood at the corner next to the large sliding glass doors that separated the room from a sizable balcony. It was plastic.

"For tomorrow..."

The sound of a door opening disrupted the silence in a dim and narrow hallway, flooding it with the sterile white light from the bathroom within. Moments later, the sound of a hairdryer whirred on, drowning out the rest of the weatherman's forecast. Steam drifted out the gap, creeping along the floorboards before disappearing altogether.

The weather forecast was long over before the hairdryer turned off, and a pair of feet padded silently from the bathroom to one of the other rooms branching from the hallway. Another door was opened, and the sound of a light switch being flicked on sounded out like a crack despite the newscaster talking in the living room.

"There has been a spate of home robberies in the Kuchimakase neighborhood of the University district. As of now, there have been five reported break-ins with mentions of stolen and defaced property. Because of the thorough yet swift break-ins, authorities suspect this to be the work of more than one person. These people seem to target single-person dwellings such as one-rooms for easy entry and exit. Everyone is advised to take extra caution. If you see anyone suspicious, please report them immediately."

Socked feet moved silently out of the open door, and the light within it was switched off. The whisper of fabric was the only indication of movement down the short hallway and into the living room, pausing at the newscaster's closing lines before moving on, past a fully furnished and immaculate kitchen, to the foyer.

A minute later, the front door was opened, closed, and locked.

The television, realizing that nobody was anymore present to listen to it or watch it, flicked itself off. A moment later, the living room light winked out as well.

—

_The University district, aptly named for housing the top three colleges within its boundaries, is a mishmash of apartments, coffee shops, bookstores, and various entertainment businesses catering to the everyday university student. The closer one is to either three colleges, the more upscale the businesses become. This is the way of things in this small city-within-a-city with a 5:1 student-adult ratio._

_The district is divided into three areas with one college in the middle of each. Area One is for the highest-ranking college, Koui University; Area Two is for the second highest, Jii International College; Area Three is for the third highest, Igosan University. The Areas themselves are again divided into three neighborhoods._

_The farthest from the colleges, the fringes of the district, is the neighborhood Kuchimakase. It is purely a housing neighborhood, with convenience stores as its only available business. Following that is the Kyojitsukonkou neighborhood. KKon, as it is fondly called by its inhabitants, is a mixed neighborhood of locally-owned businesses and expensive housing. The district police station is here, close to Areas One and Two, while the fire department is close to Area Three. Lastly, the center surrounded by the colleges themselves, is the Ensou neighborhood. The classier enterprises are housed within it, namely the theater, museum, various art galleries and ritzy restaurants. It is also where the train station is located. Civilizations have been built around deltas, great cities have been borne from places of power. This district, this knowledge base, is certainly a place of power._

_The district is famous for its picturesque appearance, crafted and maintained by Koui University's architecture and engineering departments, and is often used as a setting for a lot of television dramas and movies; majority of which are produced right out of the famous Jii International, lauded for its progressive cinematography department. Not to be outdone, the talents produced by Igosan University's performance arts department are usually recruited for these films. It is a harmonious—no, symbiotic relationship cultivated by the students._

_This is only part of what makes the University district so unique, in that it is powered by the very people living in it. No outsider has ever had a hand in shaping its territory without having lived within its proverbial walls. The district is a powerhouse. It is something to take pride in._

"Oh, why did I ever procrastinate on this over break?" Gumi lamented as she leaned away from the small coffee table on which her laptop was perched. She leaned back on one hand, blearily rubbing her left eye with the other as she yawned, and then abandoned the process to stretch her back and arms. Summer green hair fell back from her forehead as she tilted her head back. She felt yawning should always be accompanied by stretching; it was very relaxing. After a long sigh, she loomed over her laptop again, surveying what she had written so far.

It was supposed to be an essay about photography within the University district. Instead it read like a biography. She scowled at the screen as if it was at fault for the screwup. The girl didn't have time for this; the essay was due in an hour and a half.

"Bullshit," the girl mumbled, her fingers dancing away on the laptop's keyboard as her mind supplied her with ideas she could use to dress her essay prettily. "Must bullshit."

_But who is responsible for letting the world know about this treasure hidden in this grand city already housing great empires such as Ginza? Who can spread the word as swiftly as the written word can? Words can slow people down; especially since it is rumored that illiterate people actually exist, but a picture..._

_Isn't a picture worth more than a thousand words? So we paint, and with the evolution of technology, all we have to do now is raise a camera and press down on a button to capture a scene. It is a photographer's duty to document the world around her with her camera. It is the photographer who shares the beauty of the University district to those who can't visit it. Photographers are the marketers of this unified product._

"That'll have to do," the girl groaned as she swiftly saved her document into a thumb drive shaped like a frog. After shutting down her computer, she stood up from the floor and pocketed the peripheral device. She just knew she was going to be late.

She flitted about her single-room apartment, putting together her things. Her messenger bag was on her unmade bed, which she picked up and slung over her shoulder. Her keys were on the nightstand, which she hooked with a finger. After shutting off the single overhead light. she then slipped into a pair of kitten heel sandals and skipped out the door, quickly locking it before running for the bus stop like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels.

The bus was ten minutes late; and throughout the ride, she fidgeted in her skirt and leggings like a druggie on withdrawal. The problem with the University district's layout was that when one was running late, one would most definitely be late; especially when one lived in the residential area. She looked out the window she sat next to, her eyes seeing the scenery but not truly _seeing_ anything. She was two years into college; and although she normally would still be marveling at how the streets slowly became nicer and row after row of apartment buildings slowly melted into bustling shopfronts and office buildings, she worried about making the deadline for her essay—she had to print it first—and her photo submission—she had to remember to get the prints from the photo development room—and her date with her boyfriend.

Oh, no. Her boyfriend. This date was supposed to be their first for the semester, having not seen each other over the summer due to his having to visit his family.

Her boyfriend, who was in the same department as she, wasn't exactly the type to forgive tardiness easily. Oh, he was pleasant and funny and polite when he needed to be, but he was also a bit of a perfectionist both with his photography and his life. And hers.

His meddling in her life was a common thread of contention between the two of them: he thought she was too lax; she thought he had a very large stick up his butt. Gumi didn't mind; she thought it was healthy for their relationship. She would have been worried if they got along without any problems.

Thankfully, he left his opinion out of her photography. He was smart to do so; her last boyfriend had been a jerk about her work, which stemmed from the fact that her shots were better than his. There was a line to be drawn at healthy oppositions. This was one of them. One would have thought to avoid dating within the photography department at all; but with school and her work at the Tête-à-Tête café, Gumi didn't have that much time nor interest to attend interdepartmental mixers.

To the minor crisis at hand, she had to let her boyfriend know that she was going to be late for their date. (See? She was responsible and considerate of his feelings.) To do that, she had to find her cellphone first; only said phone didn't seem to be on her person, nor in her bag. She had left it at home. There went her attempt at responsibility. Gumi groaned, touching the heel of her hand to the area between her eyebrows. This would be another _healthy_ fight between them later on.

"Jii International College," the automated voice of the bus informed her, and she clattered towards the doors after pressing the 'getting off' button. After thanking the driver, as she was wont to do, she once again ran for it, greeting acquaintances along the way as she breezed by them without stopping.

"What's the hurry?" one of them hollered after her.

"Essay!" she yelled back, and grinned as she received good-lucks and go-for-its. Cheers always boosted her confidence in herself. She sent them a backwards wave.

Jii International's campus was a collection of buildings separated by its available majors. Photography and cinematography went together into one of the larger buildings in the central area. Gumi, however, ran straight for the computer sciences lab; a vast, single-floor building at the eastern side of the campus. She needed to have her essay printed.

The stations were arranged in a recessed floorspace. A short set of stairs led down to it. The rest of the room was a hallway of benches and study tables for those with laptops. It was at that time of the day when all the workstations were occupied, which was disheartening. Gumi wandered around, trying to spot a familiar face from whom she could wheedle a bit of time to print her paper.

A flash of yellow caught her eye and, turning, she spotted Len at one of the stations. He was watching a video. The girl sighed in relief and called out, "Len-kun!"

The young man turned and raised an eyebrow as she approached. "Gumi," he greeted neutrally, removing his headphones. "What's up?" He was answered instead with a frog-shaped thumb drive thrust in his face.

"I need to have a paper printed," she explained as Len accepted the frog and beheaded it to expose the USB plug. "It's due in"—Gumi glanced at the time on the computer screen and started shifting from foot to foot—"oh, no. It's due in twenty minutes. And I still need to pick up the prints from the darkroom. And then"—

"Which file?" Len interrupted, already clicking through the drive's folders. He was familiar with the girl's tendency to do things at the last minute after having met her by way of his sister the semester before. They also worked at the same café over the summer; though now they only worked part-time.

"gumiwontmakeitintime," she deadpanned, and watched as the man snorted in amusement and clicked her file to one of the six printers busily churning out papers at the end of the row of consoles. She made her way to it and waited. After an anxious (and disturbing) minute of sorting through lengthy sheets on how to castrate—not neuter—a penguin, her paper finally emerged from printer four. Snatching it and running by the waiting blond, she patted him on the shoulder and took back the frog-shaped thumb drive he held out, "Thanks, Len-kun! I owe you!"

"Good luck," he said to her retreating back.

"Thanks!" she called back, running out of the building.

The sprint to the film and photography building took nearly half of her precious twenty-minute countdown. By the time she reached the window counter of the film development room, she was bent double and could only wheeze out her name and student ID number to the indifferent attendant, whose only response was a snooty sniff through the hole cut in the glass divider before sorting through the stacks of manila envelopes at a leisurely pace.

Gumi once again shifted from foot to foot when she regained her breath, watching impatiently as the matronly attendant slowly flipped through each envelope before removing one and sliding it through the gap under the window. The girl immediately grabbed it as soon as it left the old lady's hands, running off after a hurried thank you. Her next destination was the classroom. It was very fortunate that the photography department occupied the first three floors of the building; even more so when her intended classroom to visit was on the first floor.

After turning down a corridor, Gumi burst into a classroom and slapped down both envelope and essay on the instructor's table with two minutes to spare.

"Cutting it close, Nakajima," her instructor commented, smoothing out a bent corner of the paper and inspecting the contents of the envelope.

Gumi's only response was a sheepish smile. "Still safe, though, right?" she asked, watching anxiously as the woman examined her nighttime shot of the Unity Fountain at Ensou. She had stayed in a single spot all evening, waiting for the perfect break in the crowd to take her shot.

"You have people in the foreground yet your focus is on the fountain," her instructor said finally. "Why?"

"The people are only the visitors," the green-haired girl explained, "they're fleeting images. The fountain is a permanent fixture. I wanted to define that. When people look at the fountain, maybe the fountain is looking right back at them."

Her instructor huffed out a snort of laughter. "Shame," she said, sliding the print back in the envelope and attaching it to the essay with a paperclip. "You're safe, Nakajima, but I still think you'd do better taking pictures of human subjects."

Gumi didn't have as much patience for people as she had for natural light when it came to photography. People were...well...people. People worried too much about whether or not they would look good that it showed in their expression. Just at the sight of a camera, a person would start to become self-conscious and suddenly the body language would change. It would be subtle, but it would be there all the same. Natural didn't exist when it came to people. Gumi summed up her thoughts with a simple, "People are too weird."

"Coming from a people person, that's weird."

—

Gumi was very, very late for her date. She was already expecting the sarcasm that he would usually employ to mock her. Did she lack a watch? Did she need him to call her every minute of every day to tell her the time? Did she need him to look after her? She was dreading it. After managing to make herself presentable in the restroom, she briskly walked towards the central courtyard of the campus where she was supposed to meet her boyfriend a half an hour ago.

The courtyard was a sizable square filled with statues sculpted by the college's former art students. They were mounted on thick column bases and, depending on their position, were either surrounded by stone benches or flanked by them. Trees and shrubbery bordered the courtyard, giving the illusion of privacy from the administrative buildings and the student lounge that surrounded it. Overhead, the unusually clear sky was fading from pink to a deep purple, showing the first glimpse of the brightest shining stars.

People were still loitering around, since the college offered night classes. Gumi hurried to a particular statue, one of an alarmingly life-like orange tree, if orange trees were bone-white in color and practically petrified up to the leaves. It was her favorite among the displays around her. There at the foot of it, sitting on a bench, was a man. A backpack laid at his feet. He was fiddling with a camera, digital by the glow emitting from the back of it, which he was looking at intently. His hair fell over half his face, the failing light highlighting it a light brown. She slowed down her steps.

He was Fukumiya Sui. A year ahead of her. If he stood, he would tower over her; although that wasn't such a surprise. She was shorter than the national average. He was a cranky thing; or maybe she just saw him that way because she was always, as he put it, too happy. He was honest. She rather liked him for it even though it made her want to hit him at times. It was serious. Gumi never wanted to hit anybody as much as she did before she met him.

As if sensing her presence, he looked up and watched her as she approached him, his expression dour with irritation at apparently having been made to wait. She smiled sheepishly as she sat next to him, arranging her bag on her lap. "I'm sorry, senpai," she said to him. "I had to rush my essay, and things dragged down from there. The bus was late, and then I realized I left my phone at home so I couldn't send you a message, and the computer lab was full, and you know how that old lady at the pickup center takes forever to find things."

"I know," Sui said bitingly. "And I'm sure, since this is your second year, you'd know that too and make the appropriate adjustments to your habits so you wouldn't be late."

Gumi sighed, but smiled all the same, refusing to be daunted. "Lighten up, will you? Didn't we agree to have dinner at your place, senpai?"

"I told you to stop calling me 'senpai' when we're alone."

"All right, _Sui-sama_," she started, but was stopped at the glare he sent her way. A corner of her mouth twitched, and before she knew it, she was hugging her bag to her chest and giggling.

"Why must every conversation with you be difficult?" he spat in disgust, standing up after carefully packing away his camera.

"I've always wanted to say that!" Gumi said, standing up and laying the strap of her messenger bag across her shoulder. "You're so..."

"...much more proper than you," he finished for her as he shouldered his backpack and took her hand. "Much more refined than you. Much more _everything else,_" he said as he led her out of the courtyard. As they walked off campus, she watched him. His profile was always something she was fascinated by. His nose was long and thin, as were his lips. The outer corners of his eyes were tilted slightly upwards, and his eyebrows were almost always drawn close over the bridge of his nose, making him look severe. He was bony in appearance, though not frighteningly skinny. He just didn't gain weight.

"If that's the case, why ask me out in the first place?" she asked out of the blue.

"Why'd you agree?"

"I was curious," she sassed.

"So was I," he said dryly.

"Ahh," Gumi grinned mischievously as she made a move to step away from him. "So now that we know we're completely not made for each other, it'll be okay if we broke up?"

"Coming through!"

She was roughly yanked back against his side just as a large man barreled down the path on which she previously walked. Had she not been moved, she would have been introduced to a first-hand experience in how it felt like to be roadkill.

"Stop daydreaming," he snapped, leading her down the street. The side of his face she could see was red, even the tip of his ear and the back of his neck. "It makes me wonder how you're still alive today, with the way you go about as if nothing can hurt you. Idiot!"

His words were harsh. By all means, he was angry. But the big and bony hand holding hers was warm and gentle. He handled her like she was glass, and always looked out for her; that endeared him to her. She smiled and squeezed his hand. "I love you, too, senpai."

"Don't say it so easily!"

Gumi laughed at his blushing face. "Why?" she asked. "It's how I feel." She tugged on his hand, "Senpai, senpai, I love y"—She was pushed into a shadowy alley, and she could only look up before he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her.

As far as kisses went, it wasn't the most romantic. They were at the mouth of a dirty alley with the early evening crowd passing them by on the sidewalk beyond, oblivious to what they were doing. The air was pretty bad; they stood next to a full dumpster that advertised a lot of rotten food. His lips were a little dry, but his mouth was warm, and feeling that moving warmth on her lips made her insides tingle. Her eyes drifted shut, and she kissed him back, her own lips caressing his.

She was quiet when he pulled away slightly. She could feel his breath on her now damp lips. "Don't say it so easily or I'll not let you go home tonight," he finally said, prompting her to open her eyes. Gumi understood the implications of his words. Sui was a man, after all. They had been going out for half a year now, and though she wasn't a virgin anymore, neither she nor he had seemed inclined to get past kissing. This was a first.

Looking up at his dark, dark eyes, she smiled bravely at the face half hidden in shadows above her, her bottle green eyes bright and teasing. "Why, senpai, is this a proposition?" she asked, and laughed as he cursed under his breath and walked away from her.

"Senpai...Sui-san, wait!" she called as she hurried after him, giggles still bubbling out of her. She linked her arm in his, hugging it to her side. "I was just joking. Your face was so serious that I couldn't resist."

"That's just it." He snatched his arm back, angrily turning to face her. "You're always making light of things that should be taken seriously. You don't even take _me_ seriously!"

Her carefree smile wilted at his frustrated glare. "That's not true," she said, reaching out to touch his arm; but he stepped away, avoiding her hand, and started walking again. She hurried to catch up. "Sui-san," she tried, taking two steps for each one of his. The man had long legs.

He strode along and she raced to keep up until the next intersection, where he was forced to stop and wait for the crosswalk sign to change. She stood next to him, anxiously looking up at his stony face. Sui wasn't so keen on arguing in public, as he would demonstrate again and again over the past few months of their relationship, but she still wanted to let him know what she thought anyway. He was important to her; she wouldn't be bothering to spend time with him if he wasn't.

"I do take you seriously, Sui-san," she said simply, unmindful of the crowd of people waiting with them.

"Let's just eat out tonight," he told her, and to him that was the end of the matter altogether; it wasn't so much for Gumi.

The dinner was silent and awkward (for Gumi). The food she placed in her mouth was tasteless; she wasn't even sure what she was eating. Many times she tried to engage her sullen boyfriend in conversation, but her efforts were only met single-word answers or worse, the cold shoulder. After six months of similar ill treatment after an argument, she would have thought to get used to this by now, but it still hurt all the same. It felt just like the first time he had ever ignored her, coincidentally when she was late for their date. It hurt. For someone like Gumi, who was at her best when being around people, it was the worst kind of punishment.

The evening had turned sour for the both of them, and there was little either could do to salvage it despite Gumi being repentant. She always was after realizing she had crossed the line between playfulness and mockery. The greatest obstacle was Sui's stubbornness, or rather, his ego. Once his ego took a blow, he always clammed up behind a great wall of silence. She once thought it was adorable for the first two months of their relationship, but now she only saw it as hindrance to any possibilities of reconciliation. In short, the man stewed over his wounded pride. A lot. If he stewed any more he'd be edible.

The strained atmosphere followed them all the way to the bus stop, where he left her with a terse goodnight. He didn't bother waiting for her response. The bus had already arrived. She greeted the bus driver as she got on, sliding her pass along the scanner before moving on to seat herself by the window. The bus started moving. Usually in times like this, she would have sent Sui a message from her phone.

_Thank you for dinner._

_I wasn't thinking about your feelings._

_I'm sorry._

But her phone was in her apartment; she would have to wait until she got home to express her gratitude, her regrets. Sometimes she could believe all the things Sui said about her were true. She did have an irresponsible streak. She was impulsive. She preferred to laugh than to be serious. But she had to. To live this dream, pursuing the major she wanted, she broke away from the typical business career her parents wanted her to succeed in. Without their support, she lived in the cheapest part of Kuchimakase, in the cheapest room she could afford. It wasn't that she was poor, but she wasn't living comfortably either. She had to be frugal with her resources. Living the kind of life she was, she had to keep looking on the bright side. Anything could happen.

The streets in the residential area were dark and usually deserted, and as she got off the bus, this presumption was perpetuated for the past couple of streets she walked to get to her apartment building. But that was where things started stepping out of the norm. She was surprised when she saw a crowd around her apartment building. Worse was the sight of patrol cars, their lights flashing silently, yet ominously over everything. This wasn't the kind of silent homecoming the girl was expecting.

Gumi looked around, hoping to spot any familiar faces; neighbors, her landlord, anyone. She drifted around the edge of the crowd and, finding no one she recognized, decided to ask a group of girls chattering with each other.

"Excuse me," she said as she broke into their conversation. "What's going on?"

"Oh, didn't you hear?" one of them asked. She had long brown hair. "There's been another break-in."

"In that apartment over there?" Gumi asked, dread turning her legs into lead.

"Yeah, another one-room," Long Brown said.

"On the first floor," her friend added. Her hair was in spikes.

"You know with all the noise, someone ought to have reported it," yet another friend commented. She wore a bob.

"I have to go there," Gumi mumbled distractedly.

"They've taped off the place," Spikes warned, but Gumi was already pushing her way through the crowd.

Her heart was pounding in her ears. In fact, her heartbeat was all she could hear as she swam through the sea of people.

"Hey!"; "Be careful!"; "Watch it!"

Their complaints meant little to her. More than once, her bag got snagged by extra limbs that she had to pick it up and hug it to her chest to keep moving without much interruption. Whatever was happening, whatever the patrol cars were here for, it just couldn't be related to her. It just couldn't be her room.

Gumi emerged at the other end of the crowd before a thin slice of police tape separating her from the building standing ten feet away. Impatiently she wiped the green stands of hair from her eyes, her gaze automatically locking on the unit closest to the edge of the property.

Her room.

People were crowding around her room.

They were walking in and out of her room, with zip bags, paper bags, kits.

What were they doing? Wasn't this just a break-in?

"Nakajima-san?"

Gumi looked up at the man who stopped in front of her. He was standing at the other side of the tape. He was wearing a police uniform. A radio hung off his belt, churning out static and the occasional garble of sound that only people in his profession seemed to understand. He had a gun hanging off the other side of that belt. He had tired eyes. "You're Nakajima-san, right?" he asked.

"What's wrong with my room?" she asked, and a look of pity seemed to cross his weary features. Was that pity for her?

"You may want to come with me," he said slowly, in that same tone one might affect when speaking to a troubled person. "The detective handling this case can answer any questions you may have." He raised the tape for her, and she crossed the barrier, prompting the people behind her to start whispering speculatively. She ignored them.

The officer led her to the huddle by her door. There stood her landlord, a former carpenter with a beer belly; her next-door neighbor, a homosexual make-up artist with an affinity for hair extensions; and a grizzled man in a rumpled suit who smelled like stale cigarettes.

Hiroshi, her next-door neighbor, immediately apologized upon seeing her. "I'm sorry, Gumi-tan," he said, wringing his hands in front of him. "I came home and your door was open and I thought you had forgotten to close it. But when I knocked and I saw inside..." he trailed off awkwardly. "I had to call the police."

"We thought you were taken against your will," the man in the suit said. His voice sounded as gravelly as he looked. "Nakajima-san, I am District Detective Tsujimoto." He offered her his card, which she took with numb fingers. She stared at it sightlessly as the detective went on to explain how her room was thoroughly turned upside down. Her things were smashed. Her windows and lights were broken. Her clothes were torn and carelessly thrown. Her bed was slashed and urinated on. They found half-dried semen on three of her panties. It was that discovery that made them think she had been kidnapped.

He asked her a few questions next; where she was, what she had been doing at such and such time, who was with her at the time. She must have answered those questions correctly, even though she had no recollection of ever opening her mouth.

"If you could compose a list of the things you kept in your room, we might be able to figure out what you lost," Detective Tsujimoto finished.

"Camera."

"What?"

"I need to get my camera," she said, panic finally surfacing in her voice. The only material thing more important than her check book was her camera. Her summer spent smiling for customers with a maid fetish was all for that SLR and the specialty fish-eye lens. That camera was the reason she endured the blisters on her feet with a cheerful smile and a happy giggle. That camera meant everything to her.

"Hey!"

"What is she talking about?"

"You can't go in there!"

The only thing she was aware of was her bed. The mattress had been thrown aside at some point, exposing the simple box-shaped bed frame that supported it. She slipped her fingers under the outer corner and heaved, pulling the frame from where it was aligned against the wall and the corner of her room.

"Hey, Miss, you have to stop"—

Gumi scrambled over the empty bed frame and sat at the edge of it, making sure she had a secure grip on the bed frame on either side of her hips. Planting her feet against the corner where two of the walls met, she pushed hard, exposing the floor that was normally under the bed. She sank down among the dust, her fingers scrabbling for purchase against the notch she knew was in the third board from the wall. Finding it, she pulled.

There, in the dank space she discovered when she first moved into the single-room apartment, rested her camera bag. She lifted it out, visibly shaking with relief when she felt the familiar weight of her camera and other paraphernalia inside it. The girl set the bag on her lap and unzipped it with shaking fingers, folding back the flap.

It was there. Her camera. Her lenses. Her checkbook. It was all in the dusty bag on her lap; the remains of whatever new life she had managed to build for the past two years. She released the breath she didn't know she was holding. Her lungs burned. Her chest felt heavy.

It was at that moment that she allowed herself to take note of her surroundings. Someone had set up some emergency floodlights, casting her room into an eerily sterile light. The officers were all looking at her, as were her landlord and her next-door neighbor. She looked away from their various expressions of pity and worry, her gaze tracking along whatever destruction she could see from the floor and beyond the crowd watching her like she was a dangerous animal. Her wall of photos, her only decoration, was torn down. The space at the head of her bed looked as empty as it did since she first moved in. Shreds remained of what had once been a simple documentary of her daily life. Her bedside table looked like it had been kicked one too many times. Her dresser was completely destroyed. Whatever clothes she had left smelled like it had been doused in gasoline.

Her gaze went back to the bag on her lap. She didn't want to look anymore at the destruction a seemingly random act of violence had caused. She wrapped her arms around the thickly padded canvas.

Anything could happen. So she had to stay happy.

—

End Chapter 1: Have You Got It In You?

Herro! This is the second Tête-à-Tête Universe story for Vocaloid featuring my second favorite pairing: Gumi and Gakupo...eventually! This is kind of upping the ante from _Letters_ isn't it? Please ignore the names of the real fake city district. I just wanted to make something to contain the real fake café. (Ginza is an actual place, though. It's the shopping district in Tokyo.) If you haven't read _Letters to Nobody_, that's fine. This story can stand alone without it. For length, I think this will go for at _least_ fifteen chapters. (I'm scared.)

I really hate that some Vocaloids don't have last names. I decided to give Gumi her voice contributor's last name. (Nakajima Megumi-sama~~) On another note, Gumi's kitten heels are pretty damn durable to withstand that much running.

Thank you for taking a chance on this story and reading it! It seems not many people share an affinity for this pairing (when I looked in the GumixGakupo section, there's only one page! filter sorting is so useful~). I hope you'll follow me once more to the end!

I'd also like to thank **bonbonchocolate**, whose brilliant mind has supplied me with a title for this story. Thank you for saving me when I wanted to bash my brains in out of frustration.

Also, if you find any typos or other mistakes, feel free to point them out. I'll fix them when I'm feeling more alive.

Disclaimer: Gumi [c] Internet Co. Ltd. Len [c] Crypton Future Media. Have You Got It In You? [c] Imogen Heap.

(_081011_)


	2. good day

Taking Your Picture  
><em>So you don't want to hear about my good day?<em>

Gumi hadn't been particularly present throughout the rest of the night. Not only had her apartment been ransacked, but the rest of her belongings, or what was left of them, had been beyond recovery. Even her school things hadn't been spared. While the police had been clearing out and she was herded by her neighbor to stay the night in his room, she had overheard the District Detective say how the suspects seemed to be escalating; that there might well be an assault soon. Escalate...assault...she had never heard those words being used first-hand and in public before; and it had brought home the reality of her situation.

She was a victim; the worst one yet in this string of home burglaries, or in her case, vandalism. The method of attack on her room had small but severe differences from the previous five cases documented so far. All of her property was damaged while the other rooms suffered only minimal to no damage. Her laptop and cellphone were casualties to the burglars' violence, for one. But the biggest difference of all was that it was only her room that was...defiled. To think of what those people did to the bed she slept on...to the clothes she wore... To think that they availed themselves of her things by the use of force and actually enjoyed it... To imagine the looks on their faces when they held her underwear...

A repulsed shudder rippled through her slight frame for the nth time that night. She was on the floor, wrapped up in a futon. Not three feet away was Hiroshi sleeping soundly on his bed. Her neighbor was kind enough to let her stay for the night; and though he was gay, he was still a man to her. Men were the last people she wanted to be in the company of right now; and though the police had left hours ago, her mind couldn't stop replaying the state of her room in startling clarity. With those two things on her mind, Gumi couldn't sleep.

She couldn't.

In the bitter hours of early dawn, while shifting in her borrowed nightclothes under the futon, she remembered Sui and the awkward dinner with him. That part of the evening seemed so far away; like it had happened days ago instead of a mere hours' difference. Remembering her ruined evening with her boyfriend only seemed to down her spirit further, and she hid her face in her neighbor's extra pillow. It smelled of detergent, and of her shampoo.

She should cheer up. She was still alive. Her camera, her checkbook, and her important documents were safe. She also had her toiletries and some of her makeup intact. She also still had shoes.

Gumi attempted to smile into the pillow. This was just a minor setback.

Some time later, she was watching the sky outside the window gradually grow into pinks and oranges with early morning light when she decided to abandon the notion of sleep altogether. Slowly getting up, she glanced over to her sleeping neighbor before cautiously removing her camera from its case beside her futon. With her camera cradled in her arms, she slowly crept out the door, shutting it gently behind her.

The morning chill bit into every exposed area of skin on her body, causing goosebumps to rise up and down her limbs. She shivered. The whole building was quiet, and the street beyond was empty of anyone. It was too early for anyone to be up, even on a Sunday.

Unwillingly, her gaze slowly shifted to the unit next door. Her unit. Her door had been broken down, and only a crisscross of caution tape covered the gaping mouth of what had once been her home for the past two years. Beyond the yellow and black tape were shadows in varying degrees of darkness. Faint light from the broken windows outlined whatever ruined surface was left inside, giving the room a desolate feel. It was something Gumi felt connected to right at that moment.

She raised her camera, bringing her vision to the viewfinder, and felt a sense of calm. It was like all the worries bothering her were stripped away, filtered by the lens through which she now viewed her world. It felt right. When she looked through her camera, nothing else mattered but the image she wanted to immortalize in print. She was just an instrument, a catalyst; one that simply pressed the shutter button. Nothing else mattered. As she shifted her footing and bent her legs at the knees, aligning the angle she previously discovered, she fixed the focus and took the shot.

"I thought I'd find you out here."

The spell, lassitude or whatever it was, broke. The girl looked up, finding her neighbor approaching her. He looked disheveled, his shoulder-length hair sticking out every which way, but his eyes were wary and alert as they regarded her. Beyond him, the door to his apartment stood open.

She lowered her camera, letting it hang by the strap around her neck. "Sorry," she said to him. "Did I wake you?"

Hiroshi stopped beside her, leaning against a support post. "Nah, sweetie," he said. "I have an early appointment today."

"Oh." Her eyes unwaveringly returned to her broken doorway and the wreckage beyond it. Together they watched the pale yellow morning light slowly spill into the open room. Gumi took another shot, this time from the broken window.

"You're not coming back here, are you?" he asked after some time.

"No, I don't think I can anymore," she answered. The burglary ruined the place for her. Gone was the fragile bubble of security she used to ward off the uneasiness of living at the very edge of the property. "I don't feel safe around here anymore."

"I get you, darling," he soothed. Were he any other person, Gumi would have scoffed at the endearments, but they were just one of his many trademark quirks. He was unique anyway, in that he managed to sound sincere with them. "Have you got a new place in mind?"

"Not really," she confessed. "But I know I don't want to live alone. A roommate would...you know...help keep this," she gestured to her former room, "off my mind."

"Mm..." Hiroshi seemed to be thinking. He reached up and ran expert fingers through his inky black hair, absently turning bedhead into a stylish tousle. "Guess that means you want to stay away from Kuchimakase altogether, huh."

"Yeah," she gave a small pained smile. "I'm gonna have to visit the student housing center for roommate ads in KKon."

"KKon, eh? I have a friend who lives midway between Jii and Igosan. He's busy all the time and has a spare room, so he was thinking of renting it out for some fraction of what he normally pays."

"Really?" her eyes widened. "How much?"

"Hmm...if I remember right, it's an extra 30% of what we normally pay here for a one-room."

Gumi froze. An extra 30% was a mere drop in the bucket for a spare room at Kyojitsukonkou, where housing costs were inflated to _at least_ 240% more than how it was in Kuchimakase. But... "He..? I don't think I can room with a man, Hiro-chan, even if he's hardly home."

"Don't worry, sweetie," Hiroshi laughed and leaned down, giving her a conspiratorial wink. "He's just like me. You can trust him. Ah, let me get you his number and mail address." He retreated into his room before the girl could say anything else, emerging moments later with a folded piece of paper which he handed to her. "Just in case," he said to her protests. "Tell him that Hiro-chan told you about it."

"But if the rent is so cheap, how come he hasn't found a roommate yet?" she asked, reluctantly accepting the innocuous piece of paper. She truly wanted to throw it away; but she didn't want to appear rude. "Why haven't you jumped at the chance?"

"He's a picky bastard. Very private," Hiroshi rolled his chocolate brown eyes. Later they would be an icy blue with the help of contact lenses. "And I like living alone."

"He rejected you, huh?"

"Yep." He smacked his lips at the 'p,' and before she knew it, she was giggling. It wasn't that she found it funny, but that she needed an excuse to laugh at something; to just forget that she was homeless and that her funds would be sporting a large dent in replacement costs. Her neighbor seemed to understand, because he just smiled at her and said, "Let's do something about that face of yours. You need to look fabulous today."

As the day wore on, it was less painful for Gumi to behave as she usually did. After spending the few spare hours of her morning calling in favors to make copies of notes and textbooks, she was gradually feeling more like herself. With the exception of still being homeless, having no phone or computer, and being more than a little lacking in the wardrobe department, she was slowly recovering.

However, worries like those coupled with sleeplessness showed on a person's face, and Gumi was no exception that morning. It was testament to Hiroshi's styling talents that the green-haired girl looked more than presentable for work.

"Oooh, my Gumi-tan looks so adorable!" exclaimed Tête-à-Tête's proprietor and manager, a buxom and leggy blonde with the babiest blue eyes anyone had ever seen. The green-haired girl was swept up in a warm hug and showered with her boss's praises. "Look at that cute face, look at those lovely eyes, and you curled the ends of your hair! Oneesama approves wholeheartedly!"

"Thanks, Oneesama," she smiled, and received a pat on the head for her gratitude.

Sunday was an important day in the Tête-à-Tête maid and butler café. It was when popular dishes were redesigned to maintain the look of freshness for the customers who had come to expect this kind of constant change. Although this weekly review circled mainly around the abilities of the chefs, the rest of the staff were the ones who provided the opinions. It was, in many ways, a group effort.

This Sunday was also a bit more special than the usual Sundays. The autumn season was growing closer, and the Parisian-style café was getting ready for the biannual uniform change. Each uniform was never the same and the staff, having a more or less apparent delight in dressing up, looked forward to the changes. Gumi especially, as the newest addition to the staff, looked forward to her first experience.

The waitstaff and kitchen workers, grouped by gender, were gathered around the café's impressive wall-length bar. The females would taste the desserts and the males handled the regular meals. It was a tradition nobody bothered to challenge; since the men preferred the more filling meals to the puffy desserts, and the women vice versa.

"All right, girls and boys," the boss said, standing behind the bar with the chefs, Yuu-san and Pii-san, and the blond head waiter, Leon. The latter started setting up presentation boards on the bar's prep counter. Each board displayed a different design, and were of course differentiated by gender. "We've got an hour before we open, so here are the proposed costume designs for this fall. Look at them while you taste."

Conversation erupted while cutlery clinked on dishware. Everyone seemed eager to share his or her opinion over the proposed costume changes while at the same time passing compliments to the respective chefs for their accomplishments.

"Len-kun! Think you could rock that frock?"

"Eat your peas, dolt!"

"As I thought, I can't bulldoze this cake."

"Miku-san, you have to!"

"But it's so cute..."

"Ah, Pii-san, she said it's cute! Please stop making a noose out of your apron!"

"Which ones have the shortest skirts?"

"Have some sympathy. It's going to be freezing soon."

"The middle one in the girls' section isn't so good. The cut is only suited for girls with big breasts."

"Wait, are you saying that our girls don't have big breasts?" demanded one kitchen worker. "Oh, this sandwich is good. What's new in it?"

"I think that's the hummus," answered his seatmate after sneaking a pinch of the said dressing.

"What's it doing in a sandwich?"

"That's actually a good name for a sandwich. It's a conversation piece. Hey, Leon-san, what do you think?"

"Very clever. Taken under advisement," was Leon's reply.

"I like Miku-chan's breasts!" exclaimed the sous-chef, a particularly lecherous fellow.

"Shut up, perv!" came Len's disgusted growl somewhere down the bar while at the same time a "Hey!" erupted from the offended party to whom the aforementioned breasts belonged.

Gumi and Rin simultaneously burst into laughter along with the rest of the staff. "Yeah, or her boyfriend will smack you dead with his guitar," Rin called out among the rising whoops and jeers from everyone else.

"Thanks, Rin-chan," murmured the woman with flowing teal hair at Gumi's left. Miku still hadn't touched the redecorated strawberry cheesecake in front of her.

"No prob," Rin returned from her perch at Gumi's right, heartily demolishing her nut and cream strudel. "Ah, Pii-san, the dough is tastier this time and less greasy."

Gumi giggled over her marble cake sample. The thick, fudge-like coating had faint hints of hazelnut to go with its rich cocoa taste. She thought it would be great if the servers could draw a design over this kind of surface for the customers to further personalize the experience. "Rinrin's so manly."

"I had to leave my penis back in my mom's womb 'cause it was so big," the yellow-haired girl responded glibly. All along the bar, sounds of choking and groans could be heard amid breathless snorts of laughter.

"Or maybe Len-kun stole it," someone called.

"Nah, he got out first," said Rin. "Len's penis is proof of how big mine ought to be if I got it. That's where all that growth spurt _really_ went."

"Kyaaa!"; "Len-kun come to bed with me, I want to see."; "Gross, you're a dude!"; "I'll switch genders for Len-kun's penis!"; "Ahahaha!"

"Back to the discussion, children, please," warned the boss, effectively herding everyone back to the topic at hand. "What's the opinion on the men's costumes?"

"It's more of a worry for what Len-san can pull off," a coherent female kitchen worker supplied in a background of stifled snickering, "since Leon-san looks good in practically anything."

"Thank you," the head waiter murmured modestly.

"I like the one with the other coat," Rin suggested, pointing at the men's design that started just where the women's ended. "What's that called? Oh it's written on the board—cutaway morning coat. It's fitting for day shift right? What do you think, Len?"

"Yeah," the young man said tonelessly.

"Edwardian, huh," Boss said to herself, gazing at her two male waiters with a critical eye. "And for the women?"

"I like the one that has the thickest and puffiest petticoat," Gumi volunteered. "It looks fun to wear."

"That one at the very end, right?" asked Rin interestedly, leaning over to peer at the board.

"The one with lots of ribbons on the skirt," Miku agreed. "It's cute."

"The lacy sleeves will be a problem with serving," Rin commented. "Do you think it'll look fine if it ends at the elbow, Oneesama?"

"It'll be fine."

The rest of the staff abandoned their seats to crowd behind the women, peering at the presentation board upon which laid the design of interest. Exclamations were made over the silk and satin material to be used. Dismay was expressed over the frilled white collar covering up a good portion of what the deep square neckline revealed. Delight was evident in the knowledge that the waitstaff would be wearing gloves; a number of suggestive acts regarding them were thrown around with great abandon.

To Gumi, the whole process was all exciting, and it was everything she had ever imagined from what her co-workers shared with her. Come the following month, she would be wearing a new uniform. How many people ever managed to say that they enjoyed the quirks of their job, temporary, part-time or otherwise? Not to mention the money which, for a shop in Ensou, was more than worth putting on lolita costumes and behaving provocatively for a bunch of strangers.

Tête-à-Tête opened soon afterward, and Gumi lost herself in the simple act of serving her 'masters' and 'mistresses' whatever food and drink they desired. Upon entering the café, one would be greeted by the long bar taking up one side of the wall. The café was laid out to take up whatever free space was available. On the ceiling were two lazily spinning fans. In the corners where the ceiling met the walls were track lights. Bleached igneous rock was inlaid within its walls, maximizing whatever light drifted in through the glass storefront. Along those walls were baskets of greenery hanging from hooks. Fifteen mildly-sized, cream marble-topped, wrought iron tables were scattered around the cobble-tiled floor. Each table was surrounded by two or three cushioned wrought iron chairs. It was a delight to dance around the obstacles, and it was Gumi's specialty to nimbly weave her way around tables to serve her customers. It made wearing skirts fun.

Her classmates had been popping in and out of the store all day to deliver her requested copies of notes and various texts. They were sympathetic to her predicament, and could be counted on to help her out. They didn't fail her, even going so far as to keep quiet about her situation; she felt so lucky to have them as classmates and friends. In return, she treated them to anything from the shop, much to their delight. It was a small price to pay compared to what she could have done to buy new textbooks.

That still left the matter of having to let her employer know, though. But with the excitement over the uniform proposals and the general Sunday hubbub, she felt it was bad form to bear unpleasant news. As a compromise, she settled for waiting until the end of her shift to talk to the boss.

Tête-à-Tête was a unique establishment in that it wasn't just any other maid and butler café. True, during the day it behaved much like any other, serving food and drink with much ingratiation upon its patrons; but it was during the night that it transformed into something else, something well-suited to the night and everything it entailed. At night, stage and live performance equipment would be set up against the farthest wall of the store. The tables would be packed much tightly together, and more chairs would be brought forth. The bar would come alive to serve its true purpose; orange splashes of ambient light from overhead would gleam from its polished wood surface. The waitstaff would be taller, sexier, more beautiful, more dangerous. The uniforms they wore would be classier, more glamorous with less frills and more velvet. They were the night shift; and their duties extended beyond serving drinks and prearranged food.

"Another successful end of the morning shift," Leon said blissfully, happily putting away the clean drink glasses from behind the bar. Five o'clock signaled the end of Gumi's work and the start of preparations for the night shift. Already the stage crew were setting up the performance area.

"Good job, everyone," the head waiter smiled at Gumi and her co-workers sitting on the bar stools. The three of them, Gumi, Rin, and Len, were out of their work uniforms and in their street clothes. It was customary to spend a few moments cooling down or helping to set things up to make way for the night shift. Today, they were cooling down and watching Leon, still in his butler vest, put away the glassware.

"I'm excited about the new uniforms," the green-haired girl enthused. "Not that I don't like our current ones, but.."

"They're more plain compared to the new one, right?" Rin asked, and Gumi nodded. "It's always like that." The twins had been around for a full year.

"Light for the warm seasons and heavy for the cool seasons," Miku confirmed, having worked at the café for longer than the rest of them except Leon. "Boss is always conscious of our feelings."

"Yeah," they all agreed. They couldn't have found a better boss to work for.

"Hey, Gumi," Len said, his gaze on something beyond the glass door of the café. "Isn't that your boyfriend?"

"Eh...?"

Sure enough, Sui's lanky figure was outside. He loitered at the front of the shop, just under the generous awning that provided shelter from the elements. His backpack hung off one shoulder, its weight dragging down his sweater to reveal the thin shirt he wore underneath. As if realizing he was being watched, he turned his head towards the shop; lips drawn in a thin line, brows knit together over the bridge of his nose. Her stomach dropped. He didn't look very happy.

"Oh dear. He looks so gloomy," Leon commented. "Is he always like this, Nakajima-san? If anything happens, come to oniisan, all right?"

"Who's gloomy?" asked a man with hair the color of rust and the build of a gangster. Big Al, night shift's head waiter, came up behind Leon, slinging an arm over the latter's shoulder and leaning against him. "Hearing you call yourself oniisan is so creepy, you stupid pinkerton."

"Who are you calling pinkerton?"; "Ow!"

"This is the first time I've seen him come for her at work," Rin said almost entirely to herself, but the break in conversation clearly made her audible to everyone at the bar. Catching their attention, she raised her eyebrows at Gumi, who flushed and grabbed her messenger bag and her camera bag. "I better go see what he wants," the girl said, hopping off the stool and hurrying to the door.

"He's not abusing you, is he?" Rin called after her.

"What?" Al's head peeked out from behind the bar. "Someone's abusing one of our own?"

"No!" Gumi said vehemently as she paused to open the door, affronted that Rin would ever think such a thing much less say it in public. For all his faults, Sui was a gentleman, she insisted to herself, face flaming as she stepped outside to meet her boyfriend who, upon seeing her, immediately clamped a steel hand around her arm and dragged her down the street.

"Sui-san!" she cried out in shock, scrambling to keep her feet under her as she was pulled along. His hand hurt, and she struggled against the punishing hold even as she followed him. His pace was unforgiving, and he expected her to keep up or risk losing her limb. "Slow down!"

Sui sharply turned into an alley, and it was all she could do to prevent herself from tripping or dropping her bags, managing instead to knock against the man's back as he abruptly stopped and let go of her arm. It was the second time in two days that they wound up in an alley, albeit a clean one this time.

"You never told me!" he said, rounding on her, causing her to take a step back at the look on his face. She had never seen him so angry.

The reason for his anger was evident: she hadn't bothered to tell him about the break-in.

"How could I?" she challenged, rubbing away the soreness on her arm. "You know how you are when you get upset with me. You ignore me. Why should I bother?"

"This is more important than that. How stupid could you be that you don't understand how I'd come for this even if I am angry? It was your apartment, Gumi. I had to know about a break-in from the _police_? Just because I happened to be the person you were with last night? Do you know what kind of questions they asked me?"

Her mouth dropped open. What about the questions they asked _her_? What about the humiliation _she_ suffered, having neighbors from up and down the street surround the apartment building with gossip and pity? Indignation made her step up to him despite their dramatic difference in height. How stupid she was to think that he was angry at her for not telling him personally about her situation. "It was _my_ apartment that was broken into, Sui-san! If you're so worried about your image, then you should just break it off with me. All we've ever done lately is fight."

His face, angry as it was, contorted into deeper fury. It was the kind of fury that turned his dark eyes to cold, cutting obsidian. It was yet another aspect of her boyfriend that Gumi had never seen before, and were she truly honest with her feelings at the moment, it scared her. His hands were twin bands of implacable steel as they grasped her upper arms and shoved her deeper into the alley. Her slight form was shadowed by his mere presence, and though she could hear pedestrians passing unawares not two meters ahead, she felt alone with him in this narrow space. Her hands gripped the straps of her bags, and still she stared defiantly up at him.

"This is the second time I've heard you talk about breaking up," he said slowly, calmly. His trembling hands belied his tone to his barely checked temper. "I'm sorry you're so hopeless that you need me to take care of you, but please don't misinterpret my actions. I am your boyfriend. I am responsible for your welfare. Anything that happens to you reflects upon me."

"That's what traditional husbands do, and you're not my husband," she said, tired with another of their routine talks. "I don't need someone to take care of me. I've said it so many times."

"You need me," he insisted. A sharp jerk of his hands was enough to shake her. "I need to care for you. You're important to me, Gumi. When the police came to talk to me about you, I thought something worse had happened. I thought I was being suspected for crying out loud!" Something in his expression broke; and his fury, his anger, slowly deflated. What was left was the usual cool control of the man she loved.

"I was worried," Sui continued, gently this time, cautiously pulling her forward. The movement was slow, contrite in the action that he was unsure his attempt would be accepted. Gumi allowed him, loosening the tension in her body that reacted to his unusual show of violence. His body engulfed hers; his clean scent filled her senses with memories of soap and fabric softener, and she closed her eyes, her fingers only just loosening the death grip upon the front straps of her bags. He was warm.

"Please stay with me tonight," he said quietly. His voice was muffled; her ears were blocked by fabric and limbs, but she could feel the rumble of his words as he spoke. She could hear his heart beat.

But then the words translated into meaning, into intent, and Gumi froze. For all that she loved Sui, she couldn't stay with him; not when the chaos of her apartment was still clearly imprinted in her mind; not when her view towards men was compromised and needed careful mending and persuasive rationalization. She needed to get away, to think. She also needed to do more errands.

"I can't..." she started to say, pulling away from his chest, but was stopped by the tightening of his hold. She couldn't move. Her heart started hammering wildly in her chest. "Sui-san..." her voice shook. Desperately trying not to give in to irrational fear, she looked at everywhere she could see beyond Sui's arm and froze again.

Not two meters away, at the mouth of the alley stood a man dressed head to toe in black, his long purple hair artfully queued over one shoulder. Upon catching her attention, he raised one aristocratic brow in silent question at her obvious distress. She flushed, mortified to have her fight witnessed by one such as he with his amethyst eyes. Kamui Gakupo, night shift employee of Tête-à-Tête, was seeing her at her worst. Gumi quickly smothered whatever expression she was wearing and imperceptibly shook her head at his wordless query. She didn't know how long he had been standing there, but she was desperate for him to just go away. Please.

Her heart stopped when he took one step closer instead. It was hardly the place and time to find out that the usually detached man had a chivalrous streak.

She could feel Sui's cheek resting against her hair. "Please," he whispered to her, his heart beating slightly above normal. "I just had the worst day. I can't let you go. I need you. Just one night, Gumi..."

Bottle green eyes locked with amethyst. There was something perverse about looking at another man while hugging—rather, being hugged by the boyfriend. Why wouldn't he go away? He looked at her so impassively that her panic dissolved in favor of a calmer, though no less unsettling, emotion. Then...

The events of the past two days caught up with her, bringing with it the kind of fatigue that seeped into her bones. She was tired. The very idea of being alone with a man in an apartment—in a bed—terrified her. Even if he was her boyfriend. Especially her boyfriend, in fact, who didn't seem like himself at the moment. She was tired of fighting with Sui, and she really, really wanted Gakupo to go away before her boyfriend realized they were no longer alone. She was sure Sui could find a way to blame her for it, too.

Gumi was cornered; she had no other choice but to concede to Sui's demands if she wanted to leave the alley with minimal fuss.

She was scared. She looked away from that piercing amethyst gaze, lowering her eyes, bringing herself back to her boyfriend's embrace. "All right," she said, hiding her face in Sui's shoulder. Forcibly moving her arms, she lightly slid her hands along his chest, down his abdomen, and around his hips. She hugged him back, her stomach fluttering at the sound of his hitched breathing. "I'm sorry for worrying you, Sui-san," she murmured into his chest, and earned a gentle kiss on her forehead for her effort.

"Thank you," Sui said against her forehead, giving her another dry kiss on her brow.

"I don't want to fight anymore, Sui-san," she murmured softly. She always said it to end whatever fight they would have.

"We won't anymore. You've already realized your mistake, right?" he said tenderly, raising one hand to smooth along the back of her head. The offensive statement made her flinch, but she nodded. "Have you replaced your things?" She nodded again.

"Some."

"What else do you still need?"

"Clothes," she said, "cellphone, that visarts textbook for Arai-sensei's class."

"I can lend you my copy," he said, slowly pulling away. She let her arms hang down her sides as he gently held her by the shoulders. His hands seemed to swallow her whole. She averted her eyes from his face. "Do you want to get a new cellphone now?"

"Yeah." She was agreeable to anything, as long as it delayed having to go to his apartment.

Sui took her hand and turned, finally giving her a clear view of the sidewalk and the pedestrians walking along it. Kamui Gakupo was gone.

—

End Chapter 2: Good Day

I can't wait to get to the Gumi and Gakupo interaction. *U *

"I had to leave my penis back in my mom's womb 'cause it was so big" is a bastardization of a line from the short manga _The Flower Language of Lilac_ from Taamo's _Wagahai wa Yome de Aru/I'm His Wife_.

Fukumiya Sui is a bastard. Literally. The name in kanji is just one character away ('re') from spelling out 'bastard/kusotare.' It's a fictional name; it would be very unfortunate to have a name that spells bastard. I took liberties with Sui, an actual family name, and used it for a first name. You'll find more or less literal terms for the University district as well.

I want to thank you for reading past chapter one! I hope you'll continue~~ Thank you for your reviews, **KeenDaydreamer** (herro! Yes, this story starts after _Letters_ ^^ and the dragging-on of the University district introduction was intentional to prove Gumi's—and by proxy my—dismal essay-writing) and **Luminous Snow** (you're as wonderful as ever. ;A ; )! This story also got its first favorite! Yay! Thank you!

Let it be known henceforth that this disclaimer holds and applies to any and all chapters of this story.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Leon [c] Zero-G, Big Al, Sweet Ann [c] PowerFX, Kiyoteru [c] AH Software, Kaito, Miku, Rin, Len, Meiko, Luka [c] Crypton Future Media, Gumi, Gakupo [c] Internet Co. Ltd. Any names, places, or incidences similar to this story are purely coincidental.

_Good Day_ is a song by The Dresden Dolls.

(_082611_)


	3. a little over zero

Taking Your Picture  
><em>Is this the best I can be?<em>

Bleak urban light bled lazily through a plain glass window into a dark bedroom, casting light and shadow on the ceiling. The sound of passing cars and life on the street below seemed distant and muffled within its unadorned walls. The faint whir of the air conditioning unit overhead started as it detected a rise in temperature; cold air gradually drifted down, creeping with unseen fingers along the occupied bed, cooling the heated, bunched and rumpled sheets to caress sweaty naked skin.

Gumi shivered as she broke out in goosebumps, gingerly curling into a fetal position to escape the invasive cold. Next to her, lying on his back, slept Sui. His chocolate-colored hair was tousled, short damp tendrils sticking to his forehead. His sweat-slicked skin, darker than her own, glistened in the dim light afforded by the single large window. His chest slowly rose and fell in the deep rhythm of his breathing. He looked peaceful; the scowl that lined his brow and the corners of his mouth was nonexistent on his slack face. Looking at him, he looked drastically less severe in repose than when he was awake.

He was beautiful.

She sighed and slowly sat up, wincing at the slight twinge of soreness beginning at her thighs; her hand stilling momentarily as it reached halfway for the bunched blanket at the foot of the bed.

It had been a while, and Sui hadn't been gentle; not that she had expected him to be. He had been frustrated, just as she had been. Though their reasons were completely different, she figured they had both needed the physical outlet. She had wanted to forget, if even for just a moment, that her life so far hadn't been going the way she expected it to...and he...well, she was sure he also had his own reasons.

She sighed again, and carefully leaned over to the foot of the bed, grabbing a corner of the fluff-filled blanket and pulling it up to cover Sui's nakedness. With that task done, she sat back on one hand, her head resting against her raised shoulder as she surveyed the man sleeping next to her.

Sui had been very accommodating towards her all evening. After accompanying her as she went to buy a new cellphone, he had gone with her to a friend's dorm to pick up some clothes to replace the ones she lost. (It hadn't been enough, but at least she wouldn't be wearing the same clothes all week.) The following hours had passed amiably between them as they went from store to store, slowly replenishing Gumi's bare necessities.

Gumi had almost started to feel comfortable in his presence again; she had almost allowed that menacing man she glimpsed in the alley to sink into the back of her mind, forgotten, until Sui took her back to his apartment.

It was at this part of her musings that the green-haired girl forced herself to get up and shuffle to the bathroom. She didn't want to think anymore, lest she make herself more confused. The images came anyway, in her mind, as she scrubbed her skin raw in the shower: the heated look in his eyes that scared her as well as thrilled her; his hands, effortlessly closing around her thin arms; his lips as they coaxed her own into a hungry and violent dance of tongue and teeth. Gumi shivered, her skin tingling with the remembered sensation of slightly callused hands followed by soft lips and the teasing brush of teeth.

Everywhere.

He had been everywhere.

She sped up her washing, rinsed, and stepped out of the shower feeling like a steamy newborn with skin pink from the heat and her thorough scrubbing. She walked to the sink, leaning over it to swipe the condensation from the mirror hanging above it. Her face stared back at her, oddly small in the stark light. She looked scared. Inexplicably guilty.

She didn't understand why she felt like she had done something wrong.

But she did know that she couldn't stay one minute longer in her boyfriend's apartment.

Gumi dressed quickly and efficiently, picking a thick powder blue sweater dress and dark jeans that clung to her legs like second skin. She located her discarded clothing, picking them up from where they had fallen around the room, and packed them away in one of the bags she came with.

It was barely past one in the morning when she gathered all her things (a messenger bag, her camera bag, a backpack full of clothes, and an old luggage bag filled with a smattering of shopping bags) and quietly let herself out of her boyfriend's apartment. She stood in the carpeted hallway, blinking in the muted light, and felt nothing but the thud of her own heart.

What was she doing? She had nowhere to go. The University district was basically closed down, as it always was on Sunday nights—early Monday mornings. The streets would be dark, save for the eerie orange glow of streetlights. No establishments would be open, save for the lone convenience store at every other block. Yet when she tried to turn around, to slide the key she held in her hand back into the lock, she couldn't. Her body refused to obey her for reasons her mind couldn't grasp. Instead, she slid the key through the gap between the door and the floor.

A shaky breath left her as she straightened up, her bags resettling against her body with the slightest whispers. There went her last chance of a warm bed for the night. Or perhaps...

Half an hour later, she was facing another door, waiting for whomever was still awake to open up and let her in. There was always at least one of them still up at this hour; it was proven fact that the Kagamine twins were night owls. Why they ever worked the day shift at Tête-à-Tête was beyond Gumi.

The door opened, spilling cheerful bright light beyond it and onto the chilly hallway where she stood. For a moment it floored her. So used was she to the single ambient light of her one-room and the preferred general dimness of her boyfriend's apartment that she had momentarily forgotten that other people—sane, rational, happy people—could afford to light up their apartments like a well-maintained store.

Rin raised an eyebrow at her, resting one hand on her hip. "Well," she said dryly. "You'd better come in before I start jumping to conclusions about your boyfriend."

The yellow-haired girl didn't even bat an eyelash after Gumi brought her up to speed on her housing situation. "So how long will you be staying?" Rin asked instead, pushing a small plastic bottle of tea towards her.

Gumi accepted the bottle, picking it up and twisting off the cap. The snap of plastic seemed loud in the waiting silence of the kitchen they were in. "Just a few days. Is it..."

"Of course it's okay," Rin snorted at her, turning to get some leftovers from the fridge when Gumi's stomach growled. "I swear," she said as she pulled out some plastic containers of food. "Your boyfriend is pretty selfish."

"But he helped me buy some things..."

"Yes, but has he fed you?" Rin gave her a pointed stare when her stomach growled again as if to rise to the challenge. "I'm saying this as a friend and co-worker, Gumi. Sure, he walked you around, carried your bags, paid for your new phone; but what did he do the moment you stepped into his apartment? What was so important that made you forget to eat?"

It was a rhetorical question, one that made Gumi flush with shame as she realized what the yellow-haired girl was implying. Rin knew. Gumi didn't even have to spell it out to her; her body did it for her. Gumi was a tiny person; rough sex left blatant physical signs like, say, soreness that made a girl not want to walk for a while.

"It's not even that," Rin continued as she peeled back container lids and popped things in the microwave. "Big Al was ready to jump over the bar when my stupid brother opened his mouth"—she rolled her eyes at Gumi's confusion—"We both saw him drag you off. Len said something that got Big Al going. If Oneesama hadn't come out and called him off like a dog, you would've had more problems."

The only sound in the air for the next few moments was the constant whine of the microwave.

Well... Well. What was she supposed to say to that? Her face flamed as she looked down at the counter top, her hands fiddling with the bottle of tea. With just a small display, her relationship was flapped in everyone's faces, aired like the dirty laundry it was. What was worse, nearly everyone had misconceptions about her relationship with her boyfriend. Sui wouldn't like it should he ever get wind of it.

"There goes the neighborhood," was all Gumi could say in her attempt at levity.

Rin interrupted her from saying any more corny things that would only worsen the awkwardness of the situation. "You have nothing to worry about," she said, setting down the containers of food along with the appropriate utensils. "Len and I won't talk, right, cyberbaka?"

"You know I hate that word," came a muffled reply from the next room. "Hey, Gumi. Sorry about your apartment."

"Thanks, Len-kun," Gumi replied, trying to keep the mortification out of her voice.

Rin pushed the containers of food towards her, silently urging her to eat before walking out of the kitchen. "Be a good brother and let our guest sleep in your room," she heard the girl say beyond the open doorway. "You hardly sleep in it anyway."

"Fine. Help me get some stuff out of it though."

"Sure."

Gumi hadn't realized how hungry she was. The lunch she had had at the café seemed light-years ago. Rin had been right; food had been pushed far from her mind when she and Sui made it to his apartment.

She frowned at her food, tuning out the sounds of the twins moving around.

Sui had been completely selfish. But hadn't he deserved to be? He had been very helpful throughout the evening, and had even been kind enough to pay for a few of her things.

Didn't that entitle him to do the things he did? It wasn't like she didn't want to participate either...maybe at first she was a bit apprehensive, but this was her boyfriend for crying out loud! He would never do anything to put her in danger or make her feel genuinely threatened. She was just being silly earlier to think that Sui would be anything like those faceless intruders who ransacked her apartment.

It was half past four in the morning by the time Gumi settled in her borrowed room. It was clean, but had an air of being used more as a storage room than a bedroom. Boxes were stacked one upon the other along one side of the wall, the rest left bare save for a desk and a chair. A sliding closet took up the other wall. The window was still adorned with the standard white plastic Venetian blinds. It was simple. It was barely lived in. It was temporary sanctuary to Gumi.

She unrolled the futon and arranged her pillow at one end, unceremoniously flopping after it.

—

Gumi closed the door to the manager's office and quietly released a sigh. It was done; she had informed her boss about her situation, that she was without a home address for the meantime. Tête-à-Tête's boss seemed to take the news well enough, asking only a few questions that didn't make Gumi feel uncomfortable answering. Yes, she was temporarily staying with friends; yes, she managed to replace a few important things; yes, she would really appreciate more hours; no, she can't come to the store as it opens because her mornings were reserved for classes.

It was what happened after that last question that almost broke her composure, however.

"So? How was it?"

She looked up, meeting the expectant faces of her day shift co-workers from across the bar.

Leon and Miku had been anxious the moment the twins indiscreetly asked about her situation during lunch. They had badgered her with condolences and offers of help while she ate her lunch. So much for keeping quiet; but really, Gumi hadn't expected the twins to hold out for long.

"I'll be on night shift part-time," she told them with an uncertain smile. "But I'll still be working day shift, too," she added quickly when their expressions turned odd. "It's only temporary until I get back on my feet."

"How about a place to stay?" Rin asked as Gumi hopped onto the stool next to her. "Not that I don't like having you around. You can stay for as long as you like."

"I know, but I don't like freeloading either," the girl smiled to show that she took no offense, and pinched a cookie from her friend's plate. "I went to the student housing center this morning for roommate ads and have made appointments so I'll be looking at places tomorrow on my day off."

The conversation moved on, then, towards a lighter topic. It relieved her, not having to talk about her awkward situation any more than she had to. After sending a quick text to Sui informing him of her revised schedule, Gumi went to actively help with the preparations and contributed her opinion on Len's sleeping habits as well as shared her reaction to Miku's moving in with Kaito.

"What do you mean you said you'd think about it?" was Rin's incredulous exclamation from her seat at the bar.

"Shouldn't you be ridiculously happy that he wants to live with you?" Gumi added from her position on the stage as she wiped down the microphones. She felt genuinely confused. Miku and Kaito had been inseparable since the end of the summer a few months ago. Their growing relationship was so transparent that everyone at the café knew they were a couple within hours of their getting together.

"I think it's too soon," the teal-haired woman said simply, smiling a small smile. Everything in the shop seemed to slow down as the slowly blushing woman played with the ends of her hair. "But please don't misunderstand. I am really, really happy that he asked."

Gumi felt a pang in her chest when she felt the woman's happiness in her words. It was a bittersweet feeling. She was glad that Miku was truly content with her life so far; yet at the same time she was jealous of that contentment. She wished she could be so lucky. A successful whirlwind romance was the kind of thing every girl dreamed of since childhood after all.

That last thought gave her pause, stopping her hands from reaching for the drink-filled tray in front of her. Holy crap; she was being an extreme _girl_.

The lapse in her movement caused the bartender, Hiyama Kiyoteru, to cluck his tongue and snap his fingers at her to hurry up. With a hurried apology, Gumi hefted the tray onto her capable hands and set out to serve the patrons their ordered drinks.

It was after dinner and into the evening at the café, the busiest time for customers to step in for drinks, conversation, and good music after a good meal. Tables were more closely packed and chairs were more abundant than Gumi was used to, but around she still twirled and weaved her way to the live music currently being performed onstage by Luka, one of the night shift's performing waitresses. The thrill was like no other, live music. It was real, and it was there. It hummed like a current in her head spreading down to the soles of her feet and back up again. It made her feel light and more cheerful than she had been in a while, and it showed in her actions.

Already she was being sought after by customers for the way she delivered them their drinks. She also stood out because of her conservative maid's uniform. Earlier she was worried that it might be a problem, but now it seemed to further help customers tell her apart from the rest of the staff. She was referred to as "the dancing girl" with assorted adjectives, most of them variations of the word "cute." She found that she rather liked it.

"Gumi-chan, do you sing as well?" asked one of her customers as she served him his Woo Woo. He was among two other friends at a table by the wall.

"Oh no, I can't sing," she replied as she served a Rusty Nail and two straight shots of tequila to the rest of the table. Her hip jutted as she tapped one foot to keep with the beat of the music. "Dancing is more my thing."

"No way! We all know everyone here sings," he insisted. He had an easy smile that compelled her to return with one of her own.

"Except for me," she assured him with a wink as she straightened up. "I'd make your ears bleed." With those parting words she twirled away and back towards the bar, picking up empties along the way.

"What a tease!" the customer called after her as his companions laughed.

Gumi laid the tray of empties at the end of the bar across which stood Big Al. She gave him a sunny smile as he nodded at her approvingly. "You're doing good," he said as he took the tray and leaned across the bar to ruffle her hair. "This ain't lunch hour though, don't need to be so quick. Stay and chat with them a bit even though it's busy. They like the interaction."

"Are you kidding?" Meiko exclaimed in hushed tones as she swooped in with her own tray, causing Gumi to nimbly step out of the way lest she was eager for a collision. The older woman slid her tray down, its contents clinking musically, and wagged a manicured finger in the head waiter's face. "Have you seen their reactions?" she said. "They _love_ her flightiness. The fact that she can't seem to be tied down to a conversation for longer than two minutes makes her more appealing to everyone. They _want_ to try to catch her. Don't make her change her high selling point, you dirty old man!"

"Just 'cause she's doing the very thing that sums up your serial dating life don't mean she can do it to the customers," Al said decisively, willfully ignoring the brunette's resulting rants. ("Just because I actually try to form a connection apart from passing lust _doesn't_ mean you can insult my dating methods—") "Gumi-chan, table fifteen's got customers."

Almost absently, and never missing a beat in her tirade about men with no attachments, Meiko brushed and righted Gumi's mussed hair from Al's earlier affections before gently pushing her towards the throng of tables. Dazedly, the green-haired girl made her way to the table farthest from the stage, her mind spinning from the powers of observation her older co-workers wielded. The night shift staff were a formidable unit. Would she be able to learn such a skill during her short stay?

"Careful," a calm voice penetrated her thoughts, followed by a gentle pressure of fingertips halfway down her back. The voice roused her from her musings, and the touch made her aware that she was in danger of bumping into someone. Halting immediately, her feet set apart to steady herself, Gumi looked into her rescuer's amethyst eyes and blanched. "Kamui-san!"

He was dressed impeccably as ever; wearing polished black shoes she knew cost more than her camera, charcoal slacks with a matching vest that defined his sleek height, and under it a silver satin shirt with its sleeves neatly rolled up to his elbows. The top two buttons of his shirt were left undone, and without the restrictions of a tie it left his throat and collar bare. He was holding a tray of empty glasses aloft, safely above them to avoid being knocked over.

She couldn't meet his gaze.

She quickly stepped back to put some respectable distance between them, her notepad out of its place in the pocket of her apron to cover the lower half of her red face. "I'm so sorry," she said with a quick bow, aware that her carelessness was drawing the attention of customers nearby. Where there was an audience, it was always prudent to seem more penitent than usual; and she did so by looking down at her shoes as she babbled on. "I wasn't looking. Also, I was distracted, and..."

Gumi felt a gentle brush along her head, and looked up just in time to see Gakupo's free hand returning to his side. His smile was gentle on his face as he assessed her, seemingly, for injury. "As long as you're all right," he said, "there's no harm done. Didn't you have a table to wait on?"

Her smile grew, pleased that he was playing along. Putting her hands behind her back, grasping her notepad, she nodded. "Yes!"

"Go on," he said, stepping aside and clearing the way for her, "don't make them wait any longer."

"Yes! Thank you, Kamui-san!" After giving him a twirling salute, she skipped past the purple-haired man and weaved herself back into the throng of tables. It seemed that absentmindedness, even for just a moment, wasn't as forgiving in the night shift. Gumi mentally filed it away to be always on her toes.

Up on stage, Luka exchanged high fives with Meiko as they switched places. Cheers and applause rose up from the tables as people called out song requests. Gumi smiled as the more popular titles suggested were Meiko's signature power ballads. They would be easy to dance to.

"Nice performance," her customer greeted her as she reached him. He leaned back in his seat, perusing her from head to toe; he seemed to be absorbing the fact that she was in a maid outfit, frilly headband and everything. She couldn't control the heat rising in her cheeks any more than she could control time.

"Sui-san!" Gumi exclaimed, willing the man to bring his eyes back up to her face. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd come by for a drink," he answered calmly, reaching out to fold down a corner of her dance-ruffled apron. Satisfied that it was neat, he smiled up at her, "You look nice."

His smile mystified her and made her wonder if something good happened to lighten his mood. "Thanks, but"—

"I hope you're not causing too much trouble. You nearly crashed into a co-worker."

Her fading blush resurfaced. "I'll be more careful," she said, fiddling with the pages of her notepad. "What would you like to have tonight?"

"Just a house beer," Sui answered, "double the ice."

"Coming right up," Gumi smiled, turning halfway and stopped. "Oh! By the way, my shift ends in thirty minutes."

"I know," he said calmly as Meiko started her first number. "I'll be waiting here." He looked comfortable and at ease, sitting with his legs neatly stretched out under the table. 'Relaxed' was hardly the first word Gumi would use to describe her boyfriend; in fact, 'relaxed' was the very opposite of the usual words that comprised Fukumiya Sui. But at that moment, watching him at his table, relaxed was very becoming of him.

No matter which table she flitted to in the remaining half hour of her shift, her gaze would always return to the man sitting quietly at his table. It didn't matter how much of her attention was on her customers, nor did it matter how much conversation was passed back and forth. Once there was a break in activity, even for a split second, her eyes would always find Sui. Sometimes, their eyes would even meet.

...and her heart would skip a beat.

Something inside her fluttered with unnameable sensation at the sight of him being in her workplace. It was surely different from when he would meet her at a nearby location to pick her up. Sui sitting at a table and enjoying a beer as he waited for her unsettled her, but not unpleasantly. His coming by early meant that he worried about her, and it made her smile. In fact, it made her almost giddy with happiness.

"You're getting on well," Big Al commented as she stopped across him at the bar to lay down her last tray of empties. He started unloading the tray. "It wasn't too hard right?"

"It's a lot like day shift," Gumi smiled, helping with the glassware, "but so much better with live music!"

"S'good you're enjoying yourself," Al chuckled, and turned just as Gakupo returned with his own tray. "There's been positive feedback from the customers about you two. A lot have asked if you're siblings."

"Is that so?"

Gumi snuck a peek at the man next to her and found that she was being scrutinized. She raised her hands from the remaining glasses, feeling sheepish. "Kind of silly, isn't it? We look nothing alike."

"I don't mind playing that angle while you're here," he said after a moment of thought. His hair was in a loose ponytail tonight, and some strands had escaped the tie to hang about his jaw and shoulders. A light sheen of sweat was at the hollow of his bared collar. He turned to Kiyoteru across the bar as the man reached for the empty glasses, relaying his orders while he tugged off the thin black cord holding his hair together.

Guided by the passing of the hair tie, his locks draped like silk over one shoulder to hang over his heart. He raked his fingertips from his temples to his scalp, his shirtsleeves hugging his upper arms from the action. He gathered his hair down to the nape of his neck—the shorter, finer strands escaping his long fingers—and retied the cord. The whole process didn't go unnoticed by many, Gumi included.

"I think it's a good idea," Al added, then grinned as a thought came to him. "Just don't let Leon know or he'll get jealous. He likes to think he'd be the only one you'll ever call _oniisama_."

"I wouldn't want to ruin Kamui-san's cool image," Gumi protested, making Al snort and recapturing Gakupo's attention. Tête-à-Tête staff belonged to everyone and no one. With the few exceptions of Len and Rin's biological as well as Kaito and Miku's romantic relationships, the idea of forging a fake biological relationship with another staff member was potentially damaging; even presumptuous. Looking up at him, she asked, "What would your fans think?"

The man's lips quirked. "Just like that," he said, lowering his hands. "Like a baby sister concerned for her older brother. You heard Al, just let them think we're related."

She still had her misgivings. But if the head waiter and the person in question said so, it should be fine, right? "Well, okay..." she said reluctantly.

"'Okay...' what?" Gakupo asked as he leaned his elbows on the bar and looked at her expectantly.

Gumi's face flamed. "O-oniichan..." she managed in a small voice, reddening even more. The back of her hands flew up to cool her cheeks as she winced from the embarrassment. "Give me a night to get used to the idea." When she next looked up, it was to Gakupo looking at her with mild curiosity and to an awkward Al whose eyes were averted.

"You've really got that cute element down," the head waiter muttered, making Gumi laugh.

"There's a limit to being open, you know. I can't just suddenly call someone _oniichan_," she said, still feeling the throbs of embarrassment. "Ah, but I'm happy to, Kamui-san," she added as an aside to the loitering waiter.

"Hurry up and call me 'Gakupo-niichan' already," the man said with another quirk of his lips, making her pucker her own in a moue of exasperation.

"Bullying me already? You're enjoying yourself a little too much."

"Of course. I've always wanted a little sister."

The small admission surprised her. Although it was common knowledge that Kamui Gakupo lived alone and had no known family, she never realized he might actually be lonely from his circumstances because he always seemed grounded and capable. Maybe she was overthinking it, but she almost felt like they had something in common. Also, to think that Kamui Gakupo would like to have her as a little sister was a bit humbling.

"Ah, right. To celebrate your first night becoming siblings, why don't you walk your sister home?" Al's voice broke into her thoughts. "She's done for the night."

"Sure," Gakupo said, pushing away from the bar and ignoring Kiyoteru's whistle to pick up the readied drinks. "Where do you live, Nakajima-san—er..Gumi-chan?"

Her name slipping awkwardly off his lips gave her shivers of equal parts pleasure and disquiet. Gumi needed to get used to her new roles quickly. "Oh, you don't have to," she said, straightening up with a smile. Ducking under the bar's service area and going around Big Al, she made her way to the changing rooms. "My boyfriend's waiting for me right now."

"What? You mean that guy who dragged you off the other day? Hey. Oy!" Al clamped his hand down on her shoulder, stopping her mid-stride. She knew the issue was going to come up one of these days. She just hoped it wouldn't, ever. The green-haired girl looked up at him looming over her, and suddenly her awareness was engulfed by him.

"Is he treating you well?" he asked. He didn't let go of her shoulder.

"Of course," she replied sunnily. "What happened before wasn't what you thought, Al-san. I'm sorry for making you worry."

The older, bigger man studied her for what she felt was the longest time, piercing gold eyes searching her for any proof that suggested she wasn't being cared for. It was in moments like these that Gumi could easily believe the rumors about Big Al being an ex-gangster or ex-_something_. It was also in moments like these that she felt incredibly small, and not just physically. Big Al was intimidating in all aspects.

"You will tell me if something happens," the head waiter said quietly. It wasn't a plea; it wasn't even a question. It was a self-assured statement of fact. "I don't know how Leon runs this place during the day, but while you're in here under my watch, you're in my care too. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good job tonight."

It only took her a few minutes to change and say her goodbyes for the night. Stepping outside to the crisp autumn air, she met Sui waiting patiently for her beyond the crowd around the door. She could never tire of seeing him wait for her like it was the most natural thing to do. Wordlessly, he held out his hand.

Smiling at him, she took it.

It was warm.

—

Gumi trudged wearily up the stairs of a pleasant townhouse, not even bothering to look around. The streets and side streets were all blurring into each other at this stage of her search. Worse were the houses and apartment complexes. Everything was starting to look the same and indistinguishable from the other. She must have gone through all of the ads she found agreeable by now. Ah, where was her list again...

...and even worse...

The door to the second floor of the townhouse opened just ahead, and out came running a naked man and woman. Screaming and yelling and a great deal of clothes chased after them, and Gumi had to press her back against the stair's railings to let them stumble through as they hastily tugged on whatever article of clothing they managed to catch.

"And don't you fucking show your faces here ever again!" was the final battle cry from the woman standing at the top of the stairs to the second floor of the townhouse. She was gloriously naked; every inch of her perfect pale skin glistened with what smelled like baby oil.

Gumi's face paled. From her position at the stairs, she was privy to more than what she was comfortable seeing, especially when a toy dropped from between the woman's legs. She quickly drew her gaze up to the woman's face.

"What do you want?" the naked lady snarled at her, crossing her arms under an impressive chest.

Gumi shook her head, politely bowing. "I came to the wrong address."

...even worse were the tenants. Gumi was prepared to clash with a few personalities since anyone who still had ads up even after the start of the semester were the ones with the most quirks. Even still, she thought she would have at least found one or two acceptable; she didn't expect to strike out this much. She looked back at the townhouse she just left. It was peaceful now that the woman had gone back inside. It was even pretty. It had a flourishing garden and hanging plants. She could easily imagine living in it; going out every morning to water the plants before leaving for school and such. There went another potential room.

Reaching the bus stop shelter and taking a seat, she reached into her bag and pulled out the list of residences she had compiled the night before. Uncapping a pen, she crossed out the address she had just been to, which brought her to nothing. Her list was now riddled with crossed out addresses; all of them were total failures. Gumi sighed and looked beyond the half-roof at the sky.

Her fingers twitched.

It was a little patch of blue that wasn't blocked by buildings or trees. Although this area was still considered part of Kyojitsukonkou, she was closer to Kuchimakase now than when she first started her hunt. Out here, the tallest building stood at three stories; typical of apartments. She didn't want to be here; it was closer to where _that_ incident happened, but she wanted to cover all her bases before re-evaluating her options and making a fresh list from the crossed-out addresses in her hand.

Yes, the list.

The sun was coming in at an angle from behind her, low enough for the shelter's shadow to bleed past the edge of the sidewalk. It was nearing the golden hour; that hour in which the sun was at the horizon, bathing everything in a warm, hazy gold color. Around her the trees were undergoing their seasonal color change, their leaves blazing brown, red, orange, and yellow; though some green still stubbornly clung on. The street was momentarily empty of transportation and people, making the scene before her idyllic and fairytale-like. Were she to take her camera up right now, she would have a perfect shot.

It was to prevent this very distraction, however, that Gumi had foresight enough to leave her camera behind today. If she had brought it along, she would have abandoned hunting for a new place to stay altogether.

She hated herself sometimes.

"Gumi? Is that you?"

A car passed, and her moment was completely lost.

The green-haired girl looked to where the voice came from, and saw her former university classmate approaching to sit next to her. Lily was a svelte blonde; with skin as pale and as lush as a winter blossom and hair long enough to catch the envy of her peers. Nobody was really surprised when she transferred from photography to the modeling department. She had the looks of an angel.

"I didn't know you live around here," Gumi said after they exchanged greetings.

"Well, that's kind of the point," Lily smiled, tucking in an escaped strand of hair behind her ear. The rest of it was in a bun resting at the nape of her neck. When left to her own devices, Lily never dressed extravagantly. The taller girl was in a long sweater, loose jeans, and trainers; and even then she looked pretty. She glanced over the paper in Gumi's hand. "Looking for apartments in KKon?"

"Yeah," the shorter girl sighed, looking at the paper too as if wishing for a few more addresses to come up uncrossed. "No luck, though. Do you know anyone with a spare room? I can't really afford a unit all to myself."

"That's because you blow off all your money on your camera," the blonde wrinkled her nose teasingly, and lightly nudged Gumi with her shoulder. "Speaking of which, when are you going to take my pictures? I've been waiting all this time."

"I'm not ready yet," the girl muttered, doodling circles outside the margin of her list.

"Why don't you live in the dorms?" Lily asked after a short silence.

"No vacancy."

"Hmm..."

Gumi looked up to see Lily rooting through a small backpack. "This has been going around the department all summer," the blonde mumbled, finding her cellphone and scrolling through it. "Someone's looking for a roommate to split costs for a 2LDK* at one of the condos near Jii and Igosan." She held out her hand for Gumi's paper and pen, and copied down an email address. "I don't really know a lot else, since this thing's only been going around by word of mouth," she explained, handing back the paper and pen. "It's some guy in the same business, I guess, since he didn't leave a name or a number. A lot of us like to keep a certain part of our life away from the public."

"A guy?" was the only thing that really stuck the whole time Lily was speaking. Gumi frowned, watching her friend zip up her bag. "Lily, I can't room with a guy."

"Then I guess you're out of luck," Lily said airily, standing up as a car pulled up along the curb. Her ride had arrived. "Why don't you at least give it a try?" she said as she opened the door and slid in. "I'll see you around campus!"

The car door closed with a thump, and Gumi watched the vehicle seamlessly join the traffic of cars heading into the city. The bus rolled in not long after, and she herself was riding back into the city.

Should she go back to the housing center? Should she go back to Rin and Len's? She drowsily leaned her head against the glass pane of the bus window, looking absently up at the tree canopies as the bus sped by. Sunlight flashed and glittered between gaps of leaves, washing her upper body in spots of gold.

There was something that Lily didn't say, but clearly implied in their last conversation. Gumi was being stubborn. In the face of having failed every option she chose for herself, shouldn't she accept outside help? Shouldn't she consider an option someone chose for her? She didn't know. It was one thing to interact with men in a café setting, but it was another thing altogether when it came to living with one. She would be sharing the same space, the same facilities with that man.

Gumi shivered, but not from the cold. If she gave in to a moment of honesty, she would admit that she was scared. But she drew out the folded list from a pocket in her bag and laid it out flat, reading the email address written neatly at the top of the page. She blinked, a sense of déjà vu making her dip her hand back into her bag pocket to draw out a small slip of paper. It was one that her former neighbor had given to her before she left her old apartment.

The email address in both papers were the same.

Gumi pursed her lips, making a split-second decision.

—

**From:** frogoggle [a] xxx. co. jp  
><strong>To:<strong> s. bushou [a] xxx. ne. jp  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Spare room!

Hello, my name is Nakajima.  
>My former neighbor Hiroshi-san told me you had a spare room for rent?<br>I'm interested and would like to meet with you to discuss the terms of renting with you.  
>I would also like to see the room. Please let me know if this is possible.<p>

—

**From:** s. bushou [a] xxx. ne. jp  
><strong>To:<strong> frogoggle [a] xxx. co. jp  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Spare room!  
><span>attachment:<span> map. jpg (38kb)

Is right now okay? At block 3 building 2 from T street. P. A. Apartments  
>Unit 630<p>

—

**From:** frogoggle [a] xxx. co. jp  
><strong>To:<strong> s. bushou [a] xxx. ne. jp  
><strong>Subject:<strong> Re: Spare room!

I'm on my way. Thank you!

—

End Chapter 3: A Little Over Zero

2LDK – 2 spare rooms with a living room, dining room, kitchen.

FAMILY-ZONED! Don't worry, the romance will come.

Long time no see. I have been incapable of writing for the past year or so due to circumstances I've yet to come to terms with BUT I am learning to write again. So to those of you who have been waiting, I'm so sorry for the wait. To those of you who have just started reading this story, welcome. I intend to finish this story within the year. Please follow me to the very end.

Last but not least, to **cloudy eve **(I like your new name!), **Laniessa **(definitely will be longer than _Letters_, you might find pairing hints here and there but I'm not sure if I can expand on it), and **Ten-Faced **(holycrapthankyoufortheC2Idon'tdeserveyourpraises) , thank you for leaving reviews!

Lily [c] Yamaha/Internet Co. Ltd.

_A Little Over Zero_ is a song by Elisa.

(_041413_)


	4. hello

Taking Your Picture  
><em>We will see what stupid does for me.<em>

Gumi knew what to expect when she saw the street name in the directions given to her by text, but imagination and sharp reality were vastly different from one another. Rising like illusions from the ground were tall, intimidating buildings up and down the blocks she'd walked from the bus stop. Most were a delicate work of steel and glass that reflected the golden light of the hour, and it intimidated her. She felt like she was walking along a fortress that was built on over time, like she was viewing something made to appear beautiful yet forbidding.

P.A Apartments was within KKon's business blocks. While it wasn't unusual to have classy apartment complexes and condominiums pop up here and there to house employees, Gumi would have missed it if she didn't notice the simple brass wall plaque affixed to one of its protruding pillars.

The building's facade was a mixture of polished granite siding and reflective glass. In the right conditions, Gumi speculated it would appear black, not gray and brown like it was now. The prospect of a budding project made her fingers tingle, but she pushed the feeling away as she entered through the heavy glass door. She was here for a different purpose.

The lobby was generic-tasteful. It reflected the sharp masculine structure of the exterior, boasting a lounge area of blocky dark leather couches and dark glass side tables. An empty reception desk stood straight ahead, bordering a partition that divided the public area, elevators, and various other utility rooms. Even with daylight bulbs, the atmosphere seemed muted and gloomy; and the only softening anyone ever attempted was to distribute some fake plants here and there.

Gumi walked up to the reception desk, daring a peek around it to find it truly empty. She didn't want to loiter around for too long and seem any more suspicious than she already did; so after finding the elevators (there were two), she ascended to the sixth floor.

There were only three doors on the sixth floor. 602 was right across the elevator, and after taking a right, she followed the short hallway to 603. The trepidation slowly growing within her since she set foot in the building was making her shoulders itch, and she rotated them before ringing the doorbell. No matter his sexuality, a man lived beyond this door. A man was housed within its walls.

The door swung outward, and her forced greeting died on her lips as she recognized the man holding it open. Before her stood none other than Kamui Gakupo, barefoot, in just jeans and a ¾ sleeve shirt. It was a far cry from the smartly-dressed waiter she was so used to seeing that she dumbfoundedly blurted, "You're _s. bushou_?!"

Surprised as he was at seeing her and at her outburst, it was a show of hospitality that made the purple-haired man say, "Why don't you come inside first?" although Gumi wouldn't put it past him for being amused by the turn of events. A glance at his eyes said it all.

"I'm sorry about your old apartment," Gakupo said as he led her into the kitchen. It was spacious; with an island for food preparation, though it was used as a breakfast bar. Three short-backed stools stood at one of its sides, and Gumi perched on one as she watched the man move around in that familiar way anyone would in their own home. "Hiro came to me the day after it happened," he continued as he prepared drinks. "I never thought he would be talking about you though."

"No names," Gumi said, finally realizing what had been plainly obvious. Hiroshi never knew that Gumi and Gakupo were acquainted; and as such only knew Gumi as a neighbor, and Gakupo as a model/co-worker. While he did put in a good word for both of them, he never felt the need to disclose any specific information on either of them; he never had such obligation. This omission went both ways, it seemed, as today's meeting was just as shocking to both parties.

"I'm as surprised as you are," Gakupo confirmed, setting down a pale mug of tea in front of her. With the kitchen island separating them, he cradled his own in his hands. "The Mistress never explained why you joined the night shift."

"I asked her not to," Gumi smiled sheepishly. "I mean..."

"It's understandable," Gakupo nodded, saving her the time to explain such delicate matters. "You won't have to worry about security here. If I hadn't told the building staff that I had a guest coming, you wouldn't have been able to get past the door."

"But the lobby was empty," she frowned, her fingers wrapping absently around the mug before her.

"It's how they work," the man shrugged elegantly.

The whole building and its inhabitants seemed to be masters of subtlety. "It's a very lovely place. But the reason you have a hard time finding a roommate..."

"Ah." Gakupo backed up to lean against the counter behind him, setting his mug down to the side. "A lot of them seemed to think that being my roommate meant being a part of my life."

"Hiro-chan said you were very private," Gumi said out loud, recalling bits and pieces of her conversation with her neighbor.

He murmured in agreement. They spoke of other things, then; of the café ("Are you gonna call me 'Gakupo-niichan' yet?"; "Only in front of your fans."; "Oh? How devious."), of their occupation outside of it ("You better not take my picture."; "I won't. My camera doesn't like people."); and other things ("Food? I like meringues."; "You know that's just egg whites, right?"; "Simple food with simple ingredients are best."). It was comfortable; their back-and-forth exchanges of words were not the least bit forced or awkward. They were both capable of civility at the very least. But of course, that was a prerequisite in the service industry.

At a lull in their conversation, his eyes seemed to study her, and she found she couldn't hold his gaze, lowering her own instead to the mug she cradled in her hands. It was pale, neither white nor yellow, and had no pattern. Simple, clean, and functional; just like the kitchen they were in.

"You look like you want to ask me something," his voice drifted to her, drawing her back to him.

Gumi knew he was judging her just as she knew he knew she was judging him; they were each evaluating the other, feeling out the other, seeing if the other passed a preconceived set of personal expectations. This troubled her. Even though they knew each other from work, they were virtually strangers outside of it. But that thin thread connecting them made her a part of his life, no matter how small. Gakupo had said so himself that he valued his privacy. How would she explain giving the same address to Tête-à-Tête's owner and manager?

On top of that, despite being what he was, Kamui Gakupo was still a man.

"Are you worried because of our differences?" he asked. He seemed to pull the thought right out of her mind, and it drew a flush to her cheeks. Was she being too transparent in her silence?

"Stupid, right?" she laughed awkwardly, her fingers tapping lightly along the sides of the mug to dispel her nervous energy. "I know it's normal for men and women to live together regardless of their ah...differences. It's even socially acceptable. But I...it's hard for me."

"You don't have to talk about it," he said, looking away from her to reach for his mug. "I won't pry. I only come back to this place to sleep, and the bedrooms have key locks. The bathroom goes without saying."

"Wait, wait. You...don't mind if I stay here?" Gumi asked tentatively, wondering if she had misinterpreted the meaning behind the man's words. It was thrice now that he referred to her circumstance in some form or other. No, she amended quietly as she recalled the last few moments, it seemed she never let him forget it.

"If you mind your own business, no, I wouldn't mind subletting you a room."

"But wouldn't you be compromising yourself by letting me stay?" she asked after taking a few gulps of tea. "You yourself said that you like your privacy. But I know you, Kamui-san. I work in the same café as you do. I now even work the same shift as you do. Letting a co-worker into your home life, lacking as it seems, is still an invasion of your valued privacy.

"Whoah," she brought her mug up to hide her face as she caught up to what just came tumbling out of her mouth. "Ah—er...I didn't really mean that your home life is lacking; just that you said you only come home to sleep, so I assumed..."

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't," he interrupted her, setting down his mug with a bit more noise than was necessary. It silenced her babbling and recaptured her attention all the same. "You're assuming that by living in this house you're 'invading' my privacy. I beg to differ. I have little time to myself, true, and those are the times I do spend in this house. But I doubt my free time and yours will ever coincide." His eyes locked on her, strong and unwavering.

Gumi looked away from them, reminded of that time in the alley. It seemed so long ago, but it had only been a few days. His eyes were the same as that time; determined, headstrong and stubborn amethyst eyes. It seemed that he was through being subtle. It seemed that he had already made his decision to let her stay the moment he realized it was she whom Hiroshi was talking about. "You sound like you're not giving me a choice in the matter," she finally said, setting down her own mug with as little noise as possible.

"I'm only cutting down your flimsy excuses," he said bluntly. "What is really bothering you?"

"If you're taking pity on me because"—

"That's right," he said baldly. "It irritates me to know that it was you whose apartment was broken into. Because I know you; not that well, but enough that I can talk to you. I feel like I have to do what I can to help you. If it means giving you a room, then why can't I pity you?"

Again the chivalry revealed itself. He spoke as if his obligation to her as an acquaintance was a burden; irritation, indeed. It exasperated her. "So if I was a stranger, if I never worked at Tête-à-Tête, we wouldn't be having this conversation?"

"Yes."

Gumi bit the inside of her lower lip, slowly rotating the mug in her hands. The word _pity_ grated painfully on her pride. But did she still have to hang onto it in her situation, homeless and nearly broke as she was? Pride couldn't put a roof over her head, and neither could it put money in her bank account. It grated on her, this feeling of being helpless without someone else's charity. Was she unconsciously putting herself in this situation out of pickiness or was she truly just out of luck to be _pitied_ by this intimidating man and his exclusive sense of chivalry?

"I don't think I can live here, Kamui-san."

She would have none of his pity.

—

"I'm home," Gumi chirped, shutting the front door with a bump of her hip as she readjusted the grocery bags in her hands. Although the lights were on, the house was quiet. It was unusual considering something was always going on, be it Len's games or Rin's music; maybe they both stepped out for a quick while. It gave her time to prepare dinner either way. After dropping off the grocery bags in the kitchen, she headed to her borrowed room to put away her bag.

In return for her staying at the Kagamines', she made their meals. It was a decent exchange; the twins usually subsisted on takeout and instant food, which was hardly healthy. Thus, presented with the use of a fully-equipped kitchen, the green-haired girl didn't hesitate. She had been dying to replicate some of the café's dishes for quite some time.

She was on her way back to the kitchen when the bathroom door opened and Len stepped out, wearing nothing but water droplets. His hair, dark from being wet, stuck around his face and the back of his neck; it drew her eye to the slope of his shoulders, neither broad nor narrow; down his back, neither muscled nor flabby; to the swell of his buttocks quivering ever so slightly with each step he took. He seemed anxious, quickly stomping down the hall to the living room, trailing water in his wake. Indeed, he didn't even notice her.

Was it just her or was she seeing too much nudity today?

Stepping around the footprint-sized puddles, Gumi continued into the kitchen, losing herself in dinner preparations until Rin stuck her head in and pulled her out of her reverie.

"I'm home! Something smells good. Is that Yuu-san's beef stroganoff?"

"Welcome home," she smiled, stepping aside and letting the blonde steal a steaming bite from the frying pan. "There was a sale on steak today, and I found pasta in your pantry. I hope you don't mind."

"Totally fine. It's not like I cook a lot anyway. My god, this is good!"

"You're just hungry. Hold off 'til I'm done, will you?"

"One more, just one, but with the cream~"

"Hm?" Len walked in, no doubt attracted by the ruckus. "When did you two get back?"

"Just now," Rin said, allowing Gumi to push her away from the stove to let her stir the sour cream into the pan.

"Since you mooned me when you got out of the bathroom," Gumi followed up right after, turning off the heat in the pan and moving to drain the pot of rotini in the sink. "Nice butt by the way, Len-kun."

"E-EH?!" Len spluttered just as Rin's snickers developed into full-on belly laughter. "Why didn't you say anything?!"

"Did you really think I could have said something at the time? You were in a hurry, and I was behind you."—"Ahahahahaha! Len, you're too helpless!"—"What if you turned around? I could have been blinded."—"You should have! You totally should have! You would have seen how big his dick is!"

"You! Shut up about my dick already!"—"Bahahahaha! Ahh, let me get the plates for you, Gumi. Oh, my stomach. Teehee! Doesn't he have a cute ass though?"—"Didn't I say to shut up?!"—"You're no fun, _oniichama_~"—"You are so _**gross**_. Gumi, I'm sorry for that, so stop giggling already!"

When Gumi next turned, pasta properly drained and divided into three portions, the twins' faces were equal shades of red; Rin's from laughing too hard and Len's from complete humiliation. She was sure her own face was flushed from the exertion of laughing, just as she was sure that Len's humiliation would be known to the café by tomorrow.

"At least I didn't take a picture," Gumi said consolingly. She and Len were sitting in the living room, enjoying the orange-banana jelly cups she prepared earlier. It was Rin's turn to clean up after dinner, so the two were out of earshot and safe from more potential teasing.

"That doesn't make me feel any better," the blond grumbled around his spoon as he shifted his jelly cup in his hands to handle the television remote.

"It makes me feel better though," she said, smiling at her cup. The glass was cold in her cold hands. It was the last summer-like dessert she'd make now that the nights were getting chillier. It was time to think of warm beverages.

"I think you've been hanging around my sister too much."

"Oh, no. Not like that," she quickly said, turning to look at him. "Staying with you guys has made me feel better. Awkward moments aside—or, no, even with the awkward moments, the past few days have been so fun. I'm really grateful that you let me stay." And she was. Being with the Kagamines made her realize how lost she had been feeling until then; worrying, being timid, and unable to truly relax. She hadn't been herself.

"Well, if waving my ass around is therapeutic..." he started to say, making her choke on her jelly as a giggle bubbled up.

Gumi couldn't possibly impose on their hospitality for longer than she already had.

—

...and yet a week had already passed since she first started looking for a place to stay. It was nothing short of frustrating how the places she initially skimmed over due to various reasons (location, price, people, etc.) were already occupied. It also irked her to know that, no matter how many times she visited the housing center, there were hardly any new roommate ads. In fact, the amount lessened as her visits increased.

Thoughts of missed opportunities and regret affected her, bleeding into her daily functions in the form of deep sighs whenever she had the spare time to dwell on such things. Fortunately, those times were when she was alone, so nobody was subjected to needless worrying over her well-being.

It still came anyway, the worrying.

"What don't they like about you that they wouldn't let you be their roommate?" Rin asked bluntly during the shift change. The blonde had happened to overhear the end of her phone conversation when she and Miku walked in on her in the changing room.

"Apparently her dog didn't like the sound of my voice," Gumi said dryly, putting away her phone and picking up a sandwich that Yuu-san was kind enough to make for her dinner.

"That has got to be one of the most retarded reasons," Rin muttered under her breath, and Gumi couldn't help but agree as she ate.

"Eh, Gumi-chan, are you having trouble finding a new place to stay?" Miku asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

"Kind of," she smiled around a bite, embarrassed, "but I'm not giving up yet!"

"That's the spirit," Rin said, nudging her by the shoulder. "Actually, why don't you move in with me permanently?" At the green-haired girl's incredulous look, she continued as she put on her street clothes, "Do you really have to keep looking? The flat's pretty close to school."

"Yeah, but aren't you forgetting something?" Gumi asked, sandwich in hand, as she followed Rin and Miku back out to the floor.

"Mm? What?"

"What about your brother? He can't sleep on the couch forever."

"I could always kick him out." ("What was that?!" Len asked from his stool at the bar.) "He's useless, anyway. You, on the other hand, make really delicious food for me."

"So that's what it takes to get to you, huh," Gumi smiled wryly. "Thanks, but I think Len-kun's about to cry."

"Tch. That's all that matters," Rin winked before moving on to argue with her brother about his position in the household. "See you at home!"

Gumi shook her head, and remained standing behind the bar, digging into the last half of her sandwich. The twins had been very considerate of her staying with them, but she felt horrible that that consideration came at the cost of Len's comfort and privacy. She couldn't do that to them.

At the thought of privacy, the afternoon at Gakupo's kitchen came to the forefront. She found out quite a bit about the man in that time; how stubborn he was, for one thing. The man, after shooting down a lot of her excuses, finally accepted that she with her current state of mind couldn't live in his apartment. He finally let her go after making her swear on her camera to not breathe a word to anyone about his residence. Were all gay men really so pushy? She recalled Hiroshi being the same, while at the same time managing to be considerate. It was hard to be angry with either of them when they both were trying to be suffocatingly and annoyingly decent. ...for longer than a few moments, anyway.

"How have your nights been?" a voice came at her elbow, surprising her enough to make her almost drop her last bite of sandwich. Gumi looked down to see Miku rearranging items in one of the mini fridges.

"You surprised me."

"Sorry," the teal-haired woman smiled as she straightened up. "You seemed deep in thought."

"Yeah, sorry. Ah...hey, Miku-san, do you have any experience with gay men?"

"Eh?"

"No, that was insensitive of me," Gumi said quickly, remembering that her boyfriend was also an insufferable, well-meaning bastard. "Have you had experience with pushy people?"

"Pushy, like being unable to take 'no' for an answer?" she asked, leaning on the counter. "A lot of people can be like that when they really want something."

"Yeah, but when what they want and what you want aren't the same thing, you end up fighting."

"It's a little annoying, right? If only that time spent arguing was instead spent on compromising..."

"What if it was a situation that had no compromises?" Gumi asked after swallowing the last of her sandwich.

"That's when you either walk away or give in, isn't it?" the woman smiled, offering her a glass of water.

Miku stating the obvious felt like a revelation to Gumi in that she felt compelled to smack her hand against her own forehead for missing it. It was true, she thought to herself as she washed the glass she used. Upon reflection, she had been doing things according to common expectations; but was there really no other way? Give in, walk away; stay, go?

"So how is your new oniisan?" Miku asked as they wiped down the bar, preparing it for Kiyoteru's arrival. "Kaito has been telling me that the pair of you are becoming popular."

"He's very doting," she answered easily, "though not as bad as Leon-niisama."

"Be glad Leon-san isn't around to hear that," the woman chuckled.

"It's true," Gumi said earnestly. "Leon-niisama acts like he has a complex, but Gakupo-niichan is more gentle, and likes to bully me with it. He gives me pats on the head whenever I do something he's proud of, and apologizes if I 'scold' him for treating me like a kid." She paused, realizing something. "But now that I say it like that, it seems like I've been a bit too childish. It's not like that though. Not really."

"Exaggeration is a must in our line of work anyway. Isn't it a good thing to act a bit more spoiled?"

"I'm not acting like a kid at a night club, Miku-san!" she exclaimed, her blushing face making her cleaning companion giggle. "And stop cleaning. Go sit! Your shift's been long over."

Kiyoteru came soon after with a crate of beer bottles, evicting both Miku and Gumi from behind the bar with a hushed word of thanks. The rest of the staff trickled in; Meiko in particular making a beeline toward the bar to harangue the self-taught mixologist into pouring her a shot. Gumi couldn't completely smother the giggle that slipped out as Luka gracefully swooped in and effortlessly dragged the brunette off to the changing rooms.

After a week of adjusting and learning her work routine, she was used to the ordered chaos of the night shift's rehearsal hour. That evening she and Miku observed Gakupo and Luka harmonizing the chorus of a song about a regretful, undeveloped love while Kaito plucked the strings of his guitar in accompaniment. Meiko, occupied with a notebook and a pen, sat at the far end of the bar closest to the door, humming to something playing on her iPod while Kiyoteru stood close by, polishing whiskey tumblers. After a while, Miku left for the evening, escorted to the station by Kaito; and with the exception of Big Al, who barely just made it to the café's reopening, everyone performed their duties like usual.

There was an invisible bond with the staff that allowed them to behave thus without disrupting one another; and while it wasn't something that Gumi could easily immerse herself in, it was something that she admired.

The evening's set list was mellower than she liked, making her movements around the tables more sinuous and soft. A few customers lightheartedly teased her about it, saying how out of character it made her; and while she sassed that she had always wanted to be a ballerina, she silently chastised herself for letting her personal preference affect her work.

"But why ballads?" she whined to Kiyoteru after reciting her drink orders. The bespectacled bartender merely shrugged as he pushed her drink-laden tray forward and shooed her away with a flap of his hand.

"If you make a request, I'll sing it," came a voice behind her. It was velvety, made romantic by the music in the air; but she knew he was teasing, and his teasing usually came with a price. Not willing to give him any sort of satisfaction, she took her tray and twirled away from his favor trap; saying, not without an ounce of mischief, "Don't meddle, _oniichan_."

"They grow up so fast." She rolled her eyes at Gakupo's lament and glided merrily away before she could listen to the customers coddle and coo at him with sympathy. It was beginning to be a usual occurrence, in which the devious brother ran an over-indulgent pity party after his sister rejected his questionable affections. What she didn't understand was how anyone couldn't see through his guise; he was playing them as easily as he was bullying her, and somehow she always ended up being painted the villain. Where was the justice if looks and a well-timed sigh could win anyone over?

Gumi spent the rest of her shift cajoling her patrons into requesting more upbeat songs. But it was Thursday, and Thursday was a slow day wherein the café catered to customers who came specifically for softer beats and mellow tunes. Though they teased, their answers were all the same: that her dancing was fine.

"You dance nicely enough though," one customer said, smiling prettily. She was an older woman with the air of an office lady. Gumi had found her sitting by herself at one of the tables hugging the wall.

"I feel more like crying though," she smiled back as she set down five shots of tequila in front of the woman. Soppy and depressing love songs always seemed to get her down; and now that she was working the night shift, she was sure to feel down at least once a week.

"Is that so?" the woman asked. "Well then." She offered Gumi a shot and bumped it with another. "Here's a toast to overcoming men. Who needs them anyway?"

"Right on," Gumi cheerfully agreed despite being misunderstood, and was raising the shot to her lips when it was plucked out of her hand. She turned her head, eyes tracking the glass as it touched a pair of lips and was drained in one go. Her dismayed protest fizzled out into a soundless huff of breath. Al stole her shot. The asshole stole her free shot.

Staff generally weren't allowed to drink unless permitted to by the customer they waited on. For Gumi who had just turned twenty some months ago, and who had just started working night shift, such privileges were few and far between. The girl had never felt so cheated in her life.

"And all the single men in the world cried tonight," the wolf said smoothly as if nothing was amiss, setting down the empty shot glass on the table. "Lady, your toast is a death blow to all of us. Have mercy."

"Oh, we have a sweet-talker," the woman purred, leaning an elbow on the table as she reached out to lightly trace a fingertip down Al's hand still on the table. "You're ten years too early to be flirting with me, darling," she dismissed him with a wave of that same hand she used to touch him.

"I'll come back later," Al grinned roguishly, slipping an arm behind Gumi's shoulders as he straightened up. "I just came to take this little miss back. Her overprotective brother's just been lookin' here a while now and is wondering what was holding her up."

Gumi looked in the direction Al was waving, and saw her "brother" leaning against the corner of the bar. He was flanked by women who, as usual, were talking at him though he paid no mind to them. Just as the head waiter said, the man's attention was indeed on her.

Despite telling Miku that she wasn't going to act like a child, Gumi blew him a raspberry. The effect was lost on the man as he was protected by distance, but his smirk told her that he was amused by her reaction. As naturally as breathing, his smirk slipped away into a genial half-smile as he finally paid attention to his hangers-on, ignoring her altogether.

"Hang in there, girl," were the customer's parting words to her as Al led her back to the bar.

"Al-san, you stole my shot."

"Sorry, kiddo. Your beloved oniisan said no drinks."

"But that was my shot." ...and he wasn't her real brother anyway! She didn't know who to be more annoyed with.

"Careful, you don't want to start sounding like Meiko. Come by on your next day off. I'll treat you then." The wolfish grin Al directed at her was one that supposedly melted off his fans' underwear. To Gumi, the look was predatory and it raised the hairs on her arms. "Now get outta here. Shift's over. Fix that attitude of yours and stop pestering the customers into doing something they don't want to."

"Urgh." Were all head waiters omniscient?

"It's not 'urgh,' it's 'yes, Al-san.'"

"Yes, Al-san," she mumbled around a pout.

"You should be arrested for excessive cuteness," the big man rumbled as he ushered her behind the bar. "See you tomorrow."

Unlike the first night when she accidentally left through the shop entrance, she left by the staff door after changing out of her maid uniform. The alley that she stepped out to was, though clean, dimly lit. Meiko's warble was a muffled, distant sound in the air. Looking to the right, she could only make out a vague outline of Sui waiting a ways down, leaning against the wall closer to the street. He kicked away from the wall as he noticed her approaching, holding out his hand for her to take.

Sui was reserved in his affections, which made it hard for Gumi to express hers, but she thought he wouldn't mind that she stopped at his side and tiptoed to plant a kiss on his cheek. The alley was dark and deserted after all, and there were plenty enough shadows to hide them from anyone passing by on the sidewalk. When he slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, she grinned and met his lips halfway. She was glad he was obliging her.

He leaned back against the wall; bracing his feet apart as she nestled into him, her legs brushing comfortably between his. He kept a slow pace, using only his lips to coax her own into movement. His hands wandered down her back and up her sides, barely ghosting the sides of her breasts before cradling her face with the lightest of touches. His fingertips pressed softly behind her ears and under her jaw, his palms brushing her cheeks as his lips slowed into a long, sucking nip on her bottom lip. He reluctantly pulled away, just enough to rest his forehead against hers as he murmured in warning, "We're outside."

It took her a few seconds to realize that, while Sui was giving her the best after-work service ever, her hands had slipped under his shirt, sliding it up and exposing his abdomen.

"Sorry," she said breathlessly, neither at all sounding nor feeling sorry. His heart was beating slightly fast beneath her hands though he breathed normally; she took it as a small victory to have made him feel this much.

"Did something happen?" he asked while she pulled his shirt back down. He slowly slid warm fingertips down the sides of her neck, making her shiver. "You're surprisingly perceptive tonight," she murmured, her hands drifting from the hem of his shirt to play with the parted zipper of his jacket.

"You're usually so _bouncy_, even at night. The difference is hard to miss."

Gumi smiled, warmed by more than just his hands caressing her neck. "Someone stole the drink a customer gave me."

"Good. You shouldn't be drinking on the job anyway."

"That's not fair, Sui-san."

"And?" he lifted his head, looking at her expectantly.

"And what?" she looked back at him.

"What else happened? You can't be this affected by a stolen drink."

"Ah," she glanced to the side, toward the sidewalk. "It's nothing big. I just got to thinking about how I haven't found my own place yet."

The silence between them, however brief, was smothering. It gradually suffocated the comfortable mood they stood in, allowing such other feelings as defensiveness and awkwardness to seep in. His hands stopped their gentle caresses.

"Gumi," he sighed. "Didn't I say you could just"—

"Don't," she said, knowing what he was going to say to her. He never failed to bring it up every few days since she left his apartment that night. She took a bracing step back, away from him and his hands. "I really don't think I should."

Her movement seemed to cause a change in Sui; the new distance between them draining him of his earlier gentleness. "I thought I was obvious about my intentions," he said stiffly, straightening up. His eyes, which were half-lidded just a moment ago, were now stern and alert. They glinted with what little light they managed to catch, and they were on her.

Gumi folded her arms in a protective gesture. "And I thought I was obvious about my response when I gave you back your key."

"No," he said, biting out the word as if it hurt. "You slid it under the door. I'm tired of your half-hearted answers, Gumi. I want to know why."

She didn't say anything, her lower lip curling inward as she looked down at the ground between them. What could she really say? She didn't like the idea of living with a boyfriend, no matter who it was. The amount of change wrought by breaking up and having to move out would be too much trouble. She didn't want to be anywhere near that kind of situation. But how could she say that to someone as sensitive as Sui? It must have taken a lot of patience to not demand immediate answers from her. He had been nothing but a gentleman since that night at his apartment. He was still strict, but lately he was a lot more mindful of his words.

Gumi could tell he was holding himself back from voicing his usual harsh judgment of her, and she found that it pained her. Here was a man who was trying so hard to be someone she could be happy with, and she was unable to give him any assurance that his efforts were appreciated. She couldn't give him what he wanted, and she couldn't take what he offered.

"I'm not asking you to marry me," he said quietly.

"I never thought that," she whispered, blushing from the idea.

"Can't I at least give you a place to stay? Can't you rely on me? I'm your boyfriend after all."

"I do want to rely on you, Sui-san, but not like that. I can't live with you."

"Why?"

"I just can't, so please stop asking me!"

No.

She didn't mean for that to come out so sharply.

It was as if Gumi had slapped him. But instead of flinching or reeling back, he froze. His gaze never wavered from her face, the only change in his expression was his brow furrowing over his eyes. She took another step back, expecting him to take her down a notch with a verbal lashing.

She opened her mouth and faltered on her apology.

Sui's voice when he finally spoke was as quiet and cold as the chill that long since settled in the alley. "Fine." He started towards the sidewalk, not once turning back to offer her his hand. He had closed in on himself.

She turned to follow him, "Sui-san I'm so"—

He stopped. "Sorry," his voice was just loud enough for her to hear, and frosty enough make her flinch and stop her before she even took her first step. "I'd like to be left alone for a while. You shouldn't have a problem with it, right?" The rhetoric in his words was as sharp as jagged ice, and what he didn't say dug far deeper into her than anything. He resumed walking, and was out of sight in just a few seconds that she wondered if she had been standing still for far longer than she thought.

He thought she didn't want to be with him.

Knees shaking, she staggered to the wall, the rough surface digging into her shoulder as she leaned against it. But before she could wallow in her misery, the sound of a shoe scuffing behind her shocked her out of it. Gumi whirled around, overwide eyes landing on Gakupo who stood under the light of the café's staff entrance.

He had been finishing off a cigarette, the butt of one under his shoe which alerted her to his presence. For all that he looked, his posture suggested that he hadn't been paying attention to her or anyone. The man had just been having a smoke, and he had been looking at the alley walls doing it.

But he turned his head to her, and the sight of him brought back the sounds she didn't know she had tuned out: traffic, people, music. It also made her realize that he could have heard everything.

Had they been too loud?

"Wait there," he called out to her, turning around and walking back inside. The faint smell of smoke wafted down to her in his wake; and between him, Sui, the smoke, and everything, she was left dumbfounded.

Gakupo reemerged moments later, shrugging on a dark trench coat over his uniform. "Come on," he said, walking up to her.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Walking you home," he said it like an open challenge, daring her to argue with him about it. "It's late."

"But your shift..."

"I'm on break."

Gumi sighed and started walking, Gakupo easily falling into step next to her. 10 PM hardly deserted the streets of Ensou, but she was glad for the quiet company. He left her to her thoughts as she reviewed the last few minutes when she went through too many emotions in too short a time. She knew she was in the wrong this time, but she didn't know if her apology to Sui would fix anything.

Then, horror dawning on her, there was Gakupo. She was sure that, if at least he didn't hear the argument, he saw what happened. The realization only made the train ride to KKon more awkward and silent. But like the first time he walked in on them, he didn't bring it up; and she surely didn't feel the need to talk about it.

They were walking down a quiet street, heading to the twins' apartment when the man in question suddenly spoke up beside her, making her jump. "Ah," he said out loud, "a shooting star."

Impulse made her look straight up, trying to see the tail-end of said star, but a hazy purple sky crushed her expectation. Only a faint smattering of stars twinkled past the distant clouds, and none of them were falling across the sky.

"You missed it," came his voice next to her.

She stared back ahead. Someone had to keep their eyes on the road after all.

"Oh, there's another one," he said again, deadpan. "And another."

She didn't bother looking up this time, choosing instead to say, "Are you going to be one of those really annoying older brothers?"

"Yes," he said easily, making her huff.

"You also had Al-san take my drink."

"I wouldn't want you to fall on your face from inebriation."

"As if a shot could—forget it," Gumi shook her head. It would be useless to argue the point anymore; especially since he was taking such joy in her frustration. "We're not real siblings, Kamui-san, you don't have to go that far."

"Then the act would be pointless, wouldn't you think?" Gakupo asked, flashing her a smirk.

He was right, she silently conceded with a stiff nod. A mere chink in an otherwise flawless illusion would destroy it, making it for what it was: an illusion.

"I also wouldn't mind keeping up the act to make you feel more at ease with the idea of living in my apartment," he added, amusement leaving his tone. He was looking ahead when she turned to him to protest, but she found she could say nothing more than what she had already said before. Yet, knowing all this, he still left his offer open to her.

Pride wouldn't put a roof over her head. That was one of pride's many faults.

"I'll think about it."

—

End Chapter 4: Hello

Luka and Gakupo's duet references _Boys Don't Cry_ by fatmanP for Luka. Out of the covers—maybe because I'm writing about him—Gakupo's version stuck so I thought I'd slip it in.

With regards to **Beiowulf**'s question about Gakupo's sexuality: Gakupo is straight, but Gumi doesn't know it. Rather, she doesn't seem to want to know, preferring instead to believe her neighbor's assessment on the silly misconception that all gay people have excellent gaydars. SO. Not only are our two lovable fluffbutts family-zoned (but don't worry too much, **Ten-Faced**!), they're also gay-zoned (one-sidedly; good luck, Gakupo!).

Your reviews, messages, favorites, and alerts have made me so stupidly giddy that it has made my struggle to write all the more worth it. To you guys, **Laniessa**, **Oink**, **Ten-Faced**, **cloudy eve**, and **Beiowulf**, your words are like an empowering balm to my battered writing spirit. I know how frustrating it is to come to the end of a chapter that doesn't end the story. Even more, I know how painful it is to wait for the next one. So I'm very, very happy you're still hanging on. Thank you!

ALSO. My dearest, darlingest **bonbonchocolate** drew me another MikuxKaito. It's so gorgeous. That meaningful look! I'm using it as a cover for _Letters_. I love her. She spoils me rotten. Copypaste and remove spaces~ **i41. tinypic dot com 5dqa8m. jpg**

Hello is a song by Electrico.

(_050813_)


	5. still standing

Taking Your Picture  
><span>_Conscience clear, I'm still standing here._

Gumi's last visit had been a blur; she had not paid attention to anything outside of the kitchen, occupied as she had been with the apartment owner.

Now she took her time taking in her new surroundings; learning her way around the living room.

Sunlight was streaming in like a wash of gold, making the dark wood floor gleam. The off-white walls where the light was touching glowed a warm cream color. For a living room, the atmosphere was quiet; almost stuffy in a show-room sense. The black couch looked brand new, and the surface was slightly dusty as was the coffee table. Even the wide screen of the large television mounted on the wall was coated, just like the low shelf that stood below it. She resisted running her fingers along the empty surfaces, but did it anyway just because she could.

The disturbed dust danced, minute motes floating and drifting, illuminated by the sunlight. Gumi observed this with childish delight, weaving her fingers in the air to make the glittering specks scatter in a frenzy. It was a beautiful moment of suspension and weightlessness that she could only hope to capture perfectly. Standing among the dust, she decided then and there to spend a portion of her next paycheck on a macro lens.

Gumi wandered past the couch onto what she assumed would have been a dining area had it been furnished. The floor was bare, like the walls. The message was clear to her as she stopped at the mouth of a narrow hallway and turned to survey the living room as a whole: Gakupo wasn't planning on entertaining guests.

"He really doesn't spend a lot of time here," the girl mused out loud, thinking of her new roommate. In fact, there was little of Gakupo's things in the open room that suggested he even lived in it; and there was none at all of his personal items. She didn't want to believe him at first; besides, he could have said anything to try and get her to rent his room. (Some had tried during her hunt.) She was glad to know her suspicions were misplaced. She continued her explorations in the hallway.

A peek into the first door on the left revealed a laundry room with a utility closet. The door across it was her room; she left it for later. The next door was a sizable bathroom with a tub roomy enough for Gumi to stretch out her legs. She was excited for the opportunity to relax in it later. The last door in the hall she knew was Gakupo's room, and it was off-limits. Gumi returned to her room.

It was bigger than her one-room, and bigger still than the room she borrowed from the twins. The thought of all this space free for her use in the next indeterminable months was dizzying. Its furniture, as she understood it, was a holdover from Gakupo's previous roommates. She was now the proud temporary owner of a box bed, a dresser with a matching chair, a gaudy standing mirror, and a desk with a really nice ergonomic swivel chair. Like the roommates before her, she was allowed to furnish her room and—if she wished to—the living room.

Her meager belongings stood in the center of her new room, waiting to be unpacked. Gumi took an empowering breath and rolled up her sleeves. She would spend her whole day cleaning and unpacking; and at the end of the day, after the pillows were brought in, after the rooms were properly aired, after every surface was spic-and-span, she would have her long-awaited, long-deserved bath.

It went without saying that her first day in her new home was well-spent. But because she missed him, and because she couldn't put off thinking about him anymore, she composed a quick message to Sui about her day. She had gotten into the habit of sending him messages though he never replied to a single one. It revealed the extent of his anger that he wouldn't even spare a rebuke for all the useless messages she sent him. At this point, chest hurting, she wasn't expecting a reply. After leaving out a plate of mango jam meringues for her new roommate, she was so exhausted and so satisfied that she slept soundly in her crisp, newly-laundered sheets.

In the early morning before she left for school, she found a simple note of thanks where the meringues had been. It was the only indication of Gakupo having come home while she was asleep. The gratitude for her act kept her in a relatively good mood all day.

That night after her new roommate walked her home, she made chocolate and cream macarons as well as crème caramel. She also sent another message to Sui.

His next note was to ask for cookies.

She gave them to him at work to aid their sibling relationship. He rewarded her with a hug—which was her sisterly duty to dance out of—and his fans went wild with jealousy.

On the way home, he warned her about the repercussions of her actions. There was something wicked about the way he looked at her, like he was anticipating something very entertaining. She didn't understand, of course, until she was used as a shield and a convenient excuse against the many gifts his fans tried to shove at him in the hopes that their affections would just as happily be received and returned.

Harassed, Gumi swore she would never publicly give him anything ever again. In retaliation to Gakupo's successful harassment plan (because she reasoned that if he hadn't hugged her, none of the unfortunate events that followed would have happened), she didn't bake anything that night. She also sent another message to Sui filled with inconsequential rambles about her day.

Thus went her days in her changed environment.

—

"I am miserable," Rin said bluntly. It was the first thing she said after Gumi ran into her and Len at one of the campus cafeterias. They were seated at a table close to the windows, each with a tray of food.

It had only been a few days since Gumi moved out of the siblings' apartment after it had taken a week to rationalize with herself that rooming with a man wouldn't kill her. When she had, she realized her wavering had been stupid and stubborn. But in truth, she wouldn't have had come to the conclusion had she not constantly reminded herself that Gakupo had offered to pretend to be her homosexual brother. That knowledge had played a large part in calming her. The other part, the part that had motivated her, had simply been the fact that she couldn't anymore rely on the twins' kindness. The other _other_ part had been, of course, to break the stalemate between Sui and her.

"Do you hear me, Nakajima?" the blonde continued, her expression frighteningly morose. "You come into my house, bribe me with food to let you stay, and then you leave. Do you know what's wrong with this picture?"

"It shows that I'm a thankless freeloader?" Gumi asked, cautious of her friend's mood considering she'd just been called by her last name. Throwing a glance at Len, he didn't seem to want any part of the conversation, having covered his ears with his headphones and paying close attention to his food. She wouldn't be getting any help from that corner.

"You've ruined my stomach," Rin said flatly. "You filled it with these things—these wonderful, delicious things—and you _stopped_. I can't stand to look at a bag of frozen meat buns, much less look at a packet of instant ramen without remembering what your cooking tasted like."

"I'm sorry," seemed to be all the green-haired girl could say. She never thought Rin would take to her cooking like she did.

"You've ruined my stomach," the blonde repeated. "It doesn't want anything but your food."

"Maybe you and Len could take turns cooking? I could give you my recipe notes..."

"I _hate_ cooking," Rin said emphatically. "And Len's idea of cooking involves throwing something in the microwave and praying that it wouldn't blow up. Do you really expect me to rely on him?"

Someone cleared their throat from behind Gumi, and it was by the expression she saw on Rin's face that the green-haired girl judged it might be her attention that was wanted. Turning around, her eyes widened, seeing Sui.

He looked as he always had, which made Gumi wonder if she had been harboring expectations to see if time away from her had changed him. They hadn't seen each other since Sui left her in the alley which, in retrospect, had seemed to be a popular location for many of their talks and kisses. She even hadn't seen him around their department at all, which only made her realize that the times she had seen him before were all of Sui deliberately going out of his way to run into her.

The knowledge made her more lonely than she realized.

With her stomach doing flip-flops, she almost forgot Rin and Len were there. "Sui-sa—senpai," she smiled brightly, happily. Sui coming to see her meant that he was ready to listen to her apology, or at least he was willing to scold her for her previous behavior.

"Can we talk?" he asked. His eyes moved to a point above her head and added, "Just the two of us. It won't take long."

"Sure," she said, standing. Looking back at the table she just vacated, she was assured the twins would be fine by Rin's dismissing wave. Turning back to her boyfriend as she followed him through tables, she smiled tentatively, "It's been a while, Senpai."

He didn't answer her, and despite being prepared for the remnants of his cold shoulder, the brush-off still hurt. Even so, she clung on to the fact that he approached her and was willing to talk to her. It soothed a bit of her anxiety.

They stopped at a shadowed and deserted alcove just before the cafeteria entrance. It was partitioned by a half wall, at the top of which laid boxes of ferns. Their conversation was, if not fully blocked, muffled enough to any curious eavesdroppers.

Without preamble, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a calling card. "Here," he said, handing it to her.

Gumi frowned when she recognized that the thick stock paper bore the contact information of District Detective Tsujimoto. She looked up from the card to Sui's calm expression. "What's going on?"

"They couldn't get a hold of you," the man said. "So they asked me to pass on the message that they need to talk to you."

"What about?"

"I can only assume it's about your apartment," he said frankly, as if he didn't need to state the obvious.

"Why didn't you just give them my new info?" she asked, confused.

A crease appeared between Sui's eyebrows as he looked at her. He seemed tired of her questions. "You should at least have the choice of wanting to talk to them or not."

It then became clear to Gumi that, despite being angry with her, Sui was still looking out for her best interests and her privacy. He still cared. What should she do? What could she do? She was so ashamed and so humbled by his regard for her that a flush appeared on her cheeks as she contained the urge to launch herself at him, crying her apology and unrepentantly drawing everyone's attention. She knew he wouldn't appreciate the action.

"That's all I came for," Sui said, readjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He started to move around her, heading for the exit when she latched on to the sleeve of his jacket. The irritated, confused gaze he shot at her left her scrambling for something to say.

"What?"

She bowed her head, her mouth opening and closing, at a loss. Her stomach dropped as she watched both her hands tightly grasping the thick polyester material of his jacket sleeve. What should she say? _Thank you, I love you, I'm sorry?_ It sounded stupid, but she needed to say something. She couldn't let this go on for another day. She couldn't stand to see him leave. She couldn't stand the replies that wouldn't come to her numerous silly texts. She missed him. She _missed_ him.

Why couldn't she say it?

A weight rested against her hair, and she realized it was his hand as she was gently propelled to lean her forehead against his shoulder. His clean soap and fabric softener scent tickled her nose. He was touching her in public. Was he aware of it? She swallowed nervously, her whole body stiff; she was afraid he would push her away if she so much as moved.

"I get it," his voice, resigned, drifted down to her ear. "I get it," he repeated. "You're not ready to live with me."

It was the source of their current contention; the reason why she wouldn't—couldn't move in with him. She couldn't find the right words to say to him, and she hurt him. Was she really not ready? It seemed to be the right conclusion. How could he come up with something she didn't understand herself? But he understood her, and he didn't hate her. She could cry right now from relief if she knew such open displays of emotion wouldn't annoy him.

She leaned back, looking up at him. His cheeks were dusted with color as he withdrew his hand. He was embarrassed by his display, and it was because he was embarrassed that she felt happier he went out of his way to give her reassurance. "Sui-san."

His gaze was on her, lips in a thin, severe line. "Hm?"

"I'm sorry."

He scoffed, one eyebrow drawing down as his lips twisted sardonically. "The only time your chattiness deserts you is when you need to explain something important."

"I'll try harder next time," she said earnestly, finally letting go of his sleeve.

"Please do," he replied, turning to go.

"Sui-san."

He looked back.

"I really love you." She wondered how her face looked; if she was successful in getting her feelings across with those stupid, inadequate words. She knew he was trying to accommodate her quirks, and she appreciated his efforts. "You've been so kind to me."

The lines already present on Sui's face hardened as he looked away. "You said I should be nicer."

"Yeah."

"I'm trying."

"I know. I see it. Thank you for listening to me."

He nodded and left, murmuring that he would call her later.

Gumi returned to the twins' table, happier than she had felt in a while. Even Rin's mood couldn't wipe the smile off her face. She offered to come by that night to make dinner, smiling even more when the blonde was appeased. However, the card in her back pocket burned with a reminder that she shouldn't be too carefree. So after the twins left for their jobs, she dialed the number printed on the calling card and arranged to meet with the District Detective in two hours at a shop nearby.

Nervous energy tingled up and down her spine and limbs, prompting her into motion and leaving the cafeteria. Like Sui said, the detective did have something to discuss with her regarding the break-in at her apartment; but he felt that such a discussion was better conducted in person. The in-between state of knowing enough and yet not nearly knowing enough left Gumi restless. What more could she possibly offer to help the police in their investigation? It was a break-in, wasn't it? Her belongings were destroyed and defiled weren't they?

She didn't want to imagine the kind of questions the detective would be asking her later.

Her feet took her to the Film Arts building—more specifically, the photo gallery on the first floor. It was a room of collective student works randomly selected and displayed according to a theme. Looking at other people's photos always brought a sense of calm to Gumi. Like peering through a looking glass at a world similar to her own, she would see things she never considered before. She would wonder; she would learn.

October was a month of change, so she was expecting some kind of theme that centered around it. She wasn't disappointed. Explosions of red and orange greeted her as she stepped inside the spiral room. It was almost like the trees themselves were present. Some photos were simply scenery, capturing the simple concept. Others were movie set stills. Others still had a person or two coming together, drifting apart. One particular photo that caught her eye was of an elderly couple sitting on a bench. Though they looked serene, it seemed cruel to bluntly capture the dying.

The gallery shifted subtly then, and Gumi was seeing more red than orange. First it was the crushed red of leaves trampled underfoot. Then it shifted once more to the brown of rotted leaves. She started seeing neglect and human abandonment. The human subjects went from content to emotionless to accusing. The deeper into the gallery Gumi went, the less color there seemed to be. When the very last color left her observation (a faint yellow of sunlight among the shadows in a destroyed room—she realized with embarrassment that it was the photo she took of her one-room the day after it was broken into), the focus shifted to nothing but stark, black and white eyes until the walls were filled with nothing but pictures and pictures of empty, accusing gazes.

Goosebumps rose in waves along her arms and shoulders, up to her neck and scalp. She knew they were just photographs, but they were arranged in such a manner that made her think she was being watched, judged, weighed, and found _guilty_. The eyes held so much presence in the gallery; their gazes were so heavy. The eyes dared her to continue; they promised to drown her in the guilt they were accusing her of. It wasn't until Gumi reached the very end of the gallery that she understood the purpose of the arrangement.

She was beautiful, and she was sad. Her dulled, lifeless eyes stared out at Gumi, brows knit as if to ask "what have you done?" A drop of crimson blood leaked slowly down one corner of her crimson lips to trail across her cheek and toward the end her jaw. It marred her face like a crazed, too-wide slash of a half-smile. Her limbs were splayed, carelessly arranged as if she had just fallen there and didn't bother to get up. Other than the red, the rest of the picture was depicted in shades of gray. There she was framed, the centerpiece of everything, surrounded by eyes: a giant picture of a dead woman—a dead _Lily_.

"Chilling, isn't it?" someone spoke from behind her, and she whirled around with a gasp. "Don't scare me like that!" Gumi sighed with recognition as she pressed her hand over her frantic heart.

"Geez, you don't have to clutch your pearls over me," Lily chuckled. She was dressier today in slim ankle boots, wool tights and a belted shirt dress. A cardigan was draped over her arm. She looked like she just stepped out of a magazine, which was easily believable considering her occupation.

"Sure I do," the green-haired girl turned back to the picture. "Look at you."

"It's creepy," her friend said coming to stand beside her. "I never expected it to come out well."

"Why isn't it credited?" Gumi asked, gesturing to the empty space below the picture where the student's name should have been. The picture was even untitled. "You know the photographer, right?"

"He's your ex," Lily shrugged. "He said something about not wanting to be judged because of who he was."

The blow-out between Gumi and her ex-boyfriend had been a very public and very loud affair within the (then) first years of the department. Her ex had basically humiliated himself as a jealous and talentless photographer and drowned his name in infamy.

Gumi looked again at the picture, past the dramatic shock and into its composition. It helped that the model herself was with the green-haired girl; her friend's presence grounded her. Now that she was without the pressure of her emotions, she could see the picture for what it was: simple. Lily laid in a bed of wet, rotted leaves in the center of the frame. "He only messed with the symmetry," she noted the blood and the placement of the limbs with a thoughtful frown. "It was enough, though."

"Who'd have thought the prick had such a talent, right?"

"You pulled most of the weight," Gumi murmured absently, still looking at the picture. "The subject is very dramatic." If the photographer really was her ex-boyfriend, he improved; or he just got lucky with who he picked to be his model.

"Well, I guess," Lily preened. "He did only tell me to 'be dead' so I dropped dead. Are you going to take my picture next? I snooped around and I heard you'll be doing human subjects for finals this year."

That pulled her out of her thoughts. "Huh? Who said that?"

"I read a copy of your syllabus," her friend explained very slowly, as if the green-haired girl was handicapped.

"Geh," Gumi said, which basically meant that she didn't read through her syllabus. It was one of the last things she wanted to think about while visiting the gallery. "Is that why you're here?"

"Maybe," Lily grinned saucily. "But I just heard down the grapevine that the room ad I gave you is already occupied. Good job."

"What makes you think it was me?"

"Intuition," the blonde shrugged. "Now here," she reached in a pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. "You didn't tell me you changed your number and address! I'll come and help you with your finals, so call me any time."

"That's really far from my mind right now," Gumi groaned, but accepted the paper all the same.

"You don't have to be so gloomy about it," Lily admonished lightly as she hooked her arm in Gumi's and pulled her along, heading toward the exit. The eyes started falling away as they walked, and life started trickling in. The reverse effect was calming, like stepping out of a mind's nightmare and back into the safe and serene anchor of reality.

"I can't take pictures of people, Lily."

"You also said you can't room with a man, but where are you now?"

"That's different."

"Yeah, sure."

Lily left her at the bus stop, claiming another appointment, which also reminded Gumi that she needed to meet with the District Detective soon. The commute to the small and quiet udon shop was uneventful, and Gumi arrived just in time.

The man was seated at one of the back tables, facing the door. He raised a hand, hailing her over, and the first thing out of his mouth was, "Hope you don't mind talking while I eat." There was little change in the detective since she last saw him; his suit might be neater and less creased, but the familiar, stale smell of tobacco and coffee still clung to him. He also looked the same, down to the 5 o'clock shadow on his surprisingly hairy face. He reminded her of a bear more than anything.

She sat down across him, politely declining his offer to buy her lunch, and settled with a cup of tea. With pleasantries out of the way, District Detective Tsujimoto cut to the quick.

"Have you been keeping up to date on the news?" he asked. She shook her head.

"There has been another break-in," the man paused to slurp a large helping of noodles, "but it's nothing like what happened to your apartment. This recent one goes back to the old pattern of the previous break-ins. So I have reason to believe that your situation is different; and by different I mean that either the perpetrators have a personal grudge against you or this is entirely the work of someone else—but still with a personal grudge against you.

"And so the reason I wanted to meet with you again is to ask whether you knew anyone who hated you enough to want to vandalize your belongings like that. Or maybe you owed someone some money and they tried a scare tactic. Can you think of anyone like that in your life?"

Unlike the last time she spoke with the detective in person, Gumi was more aware of herself. She was having a hard time getting her mind around the fact that someone actually hated her. It was one thing to be disliked for some reason or other; this complete animosity aimed at her scared her.

...and she couldn't think of anyone who would do this to her.

"How about people who don't like you then?" the detective asked when she expressed her doubts. "Do you have any ex-boyfriends or former friends you had a falling-out with?"

"I'm still friends with the people I've met so far, and I have just one ex since coming here," Gumi said uncertainly. "But he's not the type of person to do this."

"Any kind of information would be helpful," District Detective Tsujimoto said, pushing aside his empty bowl and guzzling down his tea. "If I can rule him out as a suspect, then I can chase down another possibility. What's his name?"

"Wata Kouei." She had met him in her freshman year at Jii; and their similar attitudes and preferences had brought them together. But Kouei had a bitter competitive streak that had quickly soured their relationship before it could go any further.

"Do you still see each other?" the detective asked.

"No. I take early classes, so I never see him," Gumi explained. "He's the type to sleep in."

"How intimate were you?"

An embarrassed blush bloomed on her face as she looked down. "We didn't get far—we were both busy."

After a few more probing questions and taking down her contact information, District Detective Tsujimoto thanked her and left. He urged her to call if she thought of anything else. But while she felt relieved it was over, their meeting left her with a bad feeling. The detective wasn't cold, but neither was he the paragon of tact. He was, in his own way, frank with an efficiency and a certain desensitization that allowed him to do his job. Gumi would have been able to distance herself from this new situation if she had the same traits.

As such, she needed a simple distraction. Her promised dinner with the twins was still some hours away. She could always wander around, maybe browse some shops; but after the day's events so far, she badly needed some company.

—

"So did you find out what the detective wanted?"

"Yeah, but can we talk about it some other time? I kind of just want to relax for a while."

"Of course," he said, letting go of her hand and handing her his apartment key. "Let me just stop by my mailbox, you go on ahead. The book should be on the table."

"'Kay," she threw him a smile and started up the stairs.

They had been walking hand in hand since Sui came to pick her up to take her to his apartment. The _National Geographic_ photo book he had told her about had arrived a few days ago, and Gumi had been eager to see it since she found out that Sui had ordered it.

Even now she was excited. Only seeing small pieces from the _The Image Collection_ was never enough for her. She wanted to see it in its entirety. Quickly unlocking the front door, she slipped inside, kicked off her clunky ankle boots and went straight for the photo bible. Plopping herself down on the floor and pulling the book toward her, she decided today was definitely a good day; being able to immerse herself in photos for the most of it.

"By the way, I read your mail," came Sui's voice from the foyer, making her face warm.

"Ahah..." she turned a sheepish smile to him as he walked in with his mail. "I'm sorry for flooding you with useless texts."

"It's fine," he said absently, sorting through his mail on a tall side table. "You really can't stand silence anyway. How is your new apartment?"

"It's really nice," she smiled contentedly, returning to the photo book. She recognized the 1985 photo of the Afghan woman, falling in love all over again with her eyes. "I have a big room to myself."

"Mm...and your roommate, is she decent?"

"Ah..." she felt her face warm again. She had been trying to avoid specifying a gender to her new roommate; it was natural Sui would assume her roommate was female. "My roommate's pretty normal. A little private, and hardly home." When no further questions came, Gumi thought she could fully enjoy the photo book in front of her. She flipped to a new page.

"Gumi."

"Mm?" she hummed distractedly. Something was thrown down over the book in front of her, making her recoil in surprise. But whatever reproof she had died on her lips when she saw the various photos of her and the same man together. She recognized the streets they were on; they were all routes toward the twins' apartment and the apartment she shared with the man in the photos.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Gumi could clearly see that she and Gakupo were having fun in each other's company. There was one when she shoved off his arm, but in the picture it clearly looked like she was trying to hug it. There were many more still of the funny banter they threw back and forth about the café and its patrons; it was the only thing they ever talked about other than food. But she knew that without the story behind it, the photos all showed a normal couple enjoying a night out.

For that, Gumi had no words.

"Who is this..." he asked, his voice chillingly quiet.

"My co-worker," she said just as quietly, not quite able to look up from the photos in front of her. "He's also my roommate."

"And when were you going to tell me this? Hm? When you can't avoid lying to me anymore like now? You're doing me no favors keeping this from me, especially when you're so public about your relations with him!"

"From an outsider's point of view, yes," Gumi said hotly, frowning at the pictures. "If you were there you'd know that wasn't the case at all."

"Yet some outsider took these and knew enough about you to send these to me. To _me_, Gumi! They obviously felt the need to tell me something about my girlfriend since she can't even be honest with me!"

"And who would you believe, Sui-san?" Gumi cried, finally standing up and looking up at him. "Do you even know who took these?"

"I don't need to know," he shook his head at her. "Look at you, you're so defensive."

"Because I can't believe you think I'm cheating on you! He's just a co-worker!"

"Who also happens to be your new roommate!"

"He's just a roommate!"

"I can't accept this," he walked away from her, muttering fiercely. "I can't accept you living with another man! Was this why you wouldn't give me a straight answer? Was this why? _Is_ it because of him?"

Gumi numbly tried to follow him, imploring. How would she let him know he was thinking of all the wrong things? "It's not like that, Sui-san, I swear"—

"Then tell me why you'd readily move in with a man that isn't me!"

Frustration made her stamp her foot down, made her raise her voice, made her lose her patience. Frustration also made her lose whatever rational explanation she came up with. "Because he's gay, all right?! He's still a man but he's gay and I feel safer knowing I won't be bothered while I sleep because he likes men!"

He laughed hollowly, mockingly. "You really are an idiot. I fell in love with an idiot. I don't like being strung around like this anymore—seeing me when it's only convenient for you." He rubbed his face with both his palms, a scowl and a self-deprecating grin on his features. "You say every useless thing that comes to your mind but you don't say anything that matters. You say one thing but you do another. I thought if I was patient enough with you, you'd...I don't know anymore."

"I'd what?"

"Forget it."

"I would what!" Why wouldn't he listen to her? Why was he so set on disbelieving her?

"I thought you would love me!" he yelled, violently throwing up his hands. "You obviously don't! Look at you!" He slashed his hand angrily toward the pictures on the table. "You're obviously having fun with a co-worker—a _roommate_! You never have fun with me, do you? You only see me when you need me, don't you? But not for fun...I'm obviously just someone you take favors from." He seemed to deflate from his declaration, as if seeing some truth only he could see. Only his hands remained tense, shaking as he flexed them with labored breath.

Seeing him like this scared her, like he was ready to simply wreck something; and just as she realized she was actually scared of him, he noticed her, too. ...and it hurt. When she saw his expression fall from anger to horror to resignation, it hurt. It hurt like she'd betrayed him by showing him she was scared. It hurt like he was probably thinking he was a monster to her. She shook her head at him; she didn't think he was a monster.

But he misunderstood her.

"Just—let's just forget this whole thing, all right?" He turned away from her, waving her away. "Just go. Just leave."

She couldn't let this go. Didn't they just make up again? Couldn't she explain properly? She swore she would if he'd listen. Her voice came out like a hoarse whisper, and its weakness condemned her.

"Sui-san..."—"It's painful being with you," he interrupted her, repeating himself. "Just leave. Please."

She left.

After gathering her things and stumbling into her clunky boots, Gumi left Sui's apartment. She didn't feel numb, she was far from it; but she supposed it was a different kind of numbness. Hadn't she been expecting something like this to happen? Maybe a few years from now she would have an answer, when all this was behind her and time would have dulled the spikes of righteous indignation she was feeling. For now...

For now, she needed to shop for tonight's dinner with the twins. Paella sounded good. It was complex enough to keep her busy. She stepped into the supermarket close to the twins' apartment and grabbed a basket. She knew she needed broth, garlic, shrimp, chicken, sausages, and some peas. She avoided the mussels after seeing the price tag, and walked on ahead for the frozen shrimp.

Something caught her eye when she reached for the package of shrimp and, looking down, she realized she had been holding on to one of the photos that Sui threw down. The man and the woman in the picture looked happy, so unaware that their movements were being captured on film. Gumi suppressed a snort. Of course being next to a perfect being like Gakupo would make her look like a woman. His godliness probably rubbed off on her.

It looked so wrong.

Pursing her lips, she roughly shoved the offending paper in her bag and hurried with her shopping.

It was two hours later that the twins happened upon her crouching by their door and fiddling with her camera. She was of course reprimanded for not having contacted them else they would have come home sooner. She flashed them her silliest smile and waved away their concerns for the food; it was cold enough outside, and she assured them that cooking would warm her up soon enough.

Of course it did; and dinner was just as splendid, followed by an equally splendid dessert of sweet bread pudding. Seasoned with the usual antics of the twins, Gumi's evening went by like she planned it would: normal, routine, distracting.

Later, like any other Thursday night, Gumi went to bed. After all, she had classes in the morning, and work straight on through until evening. There was no time to dawdle over something silly like a breakup; because, indeed, it was a breakup.

She would save that for the weekend.

—

End Chapter 5: Still Standing

My knowledge of police investigations comes from what I see on TV and read in books; and District Detective Tsujimoto is my idealization of a veteran officer who has seen far too much in the short span of his career, yet still makes the best of things with his wits about him. I apologize for anomalies. Have I laid enough groundwork to justify the events in this chapter? I feel like I rushed the delivery. In any case, I look forward to your thoughts and questions.

My thanks to **Beiowulf**, **cloudy eve**, **Ten-Faced**, **Laniessa**, and **MonoKuromu-chan96**, whose flattering words shot me over the moon with girlish glee.

I'd also like to thank my beautiful **bonbonchocolate** for the insightful conversation on flipping a shit.

_Still Standing_ is a song by The Rasmus.

(_051913_)


	6. interlude: skyfish

Taking Your Picture  
><em>My sleeping self remembers.<em>

Payday usually meant a happy day for Gumi. It meant money, and money meant she could live for another month with a roof over her head. Money also meant food. Money meant that gorgeous, short, burnished leather aviator jacket she'd been eyeing all week, and that macro lens that never seemed to leave her idle thoughts. But Gumi didn't feel very happy when she got her inconspicuous manila envelope, which was thicker than usual. Oh, she cheerfully expressed her gratitude in front of her boss, Ann, but was she genuinely happy? She didn't think so. She just felt relieved she could survive another two weeks.

If she could describe her general mood, it would be lethargic. She went about her day like she was going through thick syrup, or at least that was what she thought. Maybe it was her mind that moved like syrup. Hm. Warm blueberry-maple syrup would taste really good with lace-patterned pancakes.

She had taken to fixating on useless things since waking up. It had helped. She had gotten through her Friday like she had gotten through all her previous Fridays; only with less thinking, less dwelling. Gakupo had dropped her off just minutes before; he hadn't even suspected a thing. Gumi had felt pretty good about herself for fooling the one who had been paying annoyingly close attention to her since she joined the night shift.

But it was a small victory. She was now alone, and the thoughts she had been desperately trying to keep away were now creeping into her mind. They licked at her consciousness with maggot-like fingers, slipping through the cracks in the battered outer wall of her mindless trivialities. They squirmed; each jerky movement slowly melting into more assured undulations as they found no resistance. Suddenly there was no wall, and still they took their time over the crumbled pieces of her defenses. They slithered, they dipped; and like ink in water, they tainted once they reached the soft and vulnerable pool of her conscious mind.

She curled into herself, pushing her back into the corner of walls her bed laid against. She hugged her knees, pulling her thighs right up against her front, her heels grinding against the bottom of her pelvic bone. It wasn't enough. She let go of her knees to hold her middle, as if doing so would keep her together. But she felt her head getting lighter, so she released one arm to hold her head down.

It started at her fingertips, the faint tingles of numbness; nerves that were slowly deprived of oxygen. It contracted her toes and seized up her leg muscles. Her joints creaked, oddly in tune with the sibilant whispers of her overloud breathing. Guilt and remorse beat at her chest with every thud of her heart, spreading in her blood like poison meant to kill. She made her choice, damn it. She was going to stick to it. The poison didn't agree. It filled her lungs and sucked out her oxygen. It escaped her body and filled her room with its suffocating presence, and suddenly it was too warm. The air was too stale.

She couldn't breathe.

Gasping, she scrambled off the bed in a mess of limbs, landing on her knees and skinning her palms. She threw open her door and stumbled onto the living room, falling once more when she stubbed her toe against the leg of the couch. Still she persisted, crawling desperately toward the sliding glass door. Her lungs were collapsing in on her. Her chest felt hollow yet full and heavy. Her shoulders pricked from a thousand needles. She felt invisible hands on her neck, tightening...tightening...

Gumi's fingers found purchase on the door latch and, finally unlocking it, flung the clear panel wide open. She fell stiffly on her back, seizing, arching to get the heavy weights off her shoulders and neck. Cold air caressed her, cooling sweat-slicked skin. She drew in big gulps of the icy breeze as it passed, reveling in the tangible sting of physical pain that flowed all the way down to her lungs.

She sobbed, hoarse and dry, simply glad to feel the air rushing in and out of her lungs. She opened her eyes she didn't know she had closed, and saw the shadows in the ceiling. Her gaze shifted to the sky outside, her head turning towards the open sliding door. The cold air bit at her skin, and she was glad she was still dressed. She didn't think she could get up if she wanted to. She was too calm now. There was a creeping heaviness in her limbs and a warmth in her chest that lulled her, not unlike the thoughts that writhed and coiled around her, consuming her.

Ah...withdrawal was a bitch.

She dreamt.

She dreamt of a man who was kind to her, offering her his quiet opinion after her abilities had been insulted. She later learned his reserved praises were as rare as his smiles.

She never saw him smile those first few months. He seemed so uptight, everything needed to be in his control. But he was always out of sorts when she happened upon him. She knew she put him off-kilter; delighted in the knowledge that she was the one thing that shook the control he took so much pride in.

He was such a proud man. It showed in his work; always majestic, always conscious of the unspoken rules. His work fascinated her; reminded her of the many pictures she had marveled at as a child with just mere wisps of a dream for a future. He was someone she easily looked up to.

She dreamt of falling, and the relieved smile he showed her when he caught her was quickly replaced by a scowl and a scolding. She covered his mouth to shut him up. She never expected him to pull away from her hand and kiss her. She never expected him to be so bold, but she found that he had his moments.

Moments were what they managed to steal in their busy schedules. She never sought him out, but he always seemed to find her. She learned she never needed to look. She knew he'd be close by.

Around the corner. In the next room. Down the hall. Walking ahead.

An accidental bump. A brush of hands. A touch of the lips. A heated glance.

She wanted him. She liked seeing him lose control. She liked being the one to make him lose it. She admired his talent. She loved his camera.

He wanted her too.

She dreamt of floating, of a warm pair of arms holding her, making her feel safe. She snuggled into his chest, breathing in his clean soap smell, comforted by the musk in his cologne and faint traces of smoke in his clothes.

She stirred.

His gentle hand smoothed away the frown marring her brow, and kissed it with warm lips when it returned.

She sighed his name.

His warmth slowly left her, and though she tried to make him stay, she couldn't move. She couldn't follow him. He was too different from her. He couldn't always come to her. He needed to stop anyway. He would never go anywhere if he always stepped off his path to see her. They were too different.

She knew this, but she was selfish and never went off her own path to see him. She didn't want to.

Her beeping alarm woke her up like usual, and as she struggled to sit up she realized she had fallen asleep in her street clothes. Thoughts still muddled with sleep, she stumbled toward her door for her bath robe and towel hanging from it. Last night was a haze of disjointed memories; dreams and reality seemed to blend and blur into themselves until she didn't know when one ended and one began.

Since she woke up in her bed, Gumi supposed her dementia-induced trek to the living room was a dream. But upon finding two discolored spots on her knees—bruises, she realized after trying to rub them clean in the shower—she amended that falling off the bed was at least real. Satisfied at having established a point in which she started dreaming, she put the night from her mind and prepared to go about her day.

Saturday was as uneventful as Friday; the only difference being that instead of avoiding thoughts about her breakup, she was avoiding the urge to curl up in a corner to brace herself against the occasional wrenching of her heart. She recalled wishing for a heart-racing romance after seeing how contentedly Miku smiled that one afternoon, and it made her realize how immature she was. She could have made it happen for herself.

Sui had been trying for her sake. In fact, he had been trying ever since he first kissed her. His relationship with her had been, argument after argument, trial and error. He had been clumsily guiding her to do the same; and all the while she thought he had been too controlling. She had valued her freedom more than she had valued him as a person, and she had spun clean out of his grasp.

Could she really blame him for giving up?

These rational thoughts were easier to come by when she wasn't alone. The presence of people and the noise they made provided a buffer against the phantom pains skittering and throbbing against the walls of her chest. But the moment she closed the door to her room, the same ugly thoughts surged like a tidal wave relentlessly trying to knock her off her feet and drown her within its selfish, arrogant, and greedy depths.

Of course he needed to come after her. Whenever she tried she was met with a wall of silence. Why would she need to waste her time feeding his tantrums when she could be doing better things? Of course she restricted her activities with him to something he was able to tolerate. Why would she even try to invite him anywhere when he always said her destination choices were a waste of his precious time and money? His time and money? What about her time and money? She barely had any! What in the actual fuck did he want from her?

He encouraged her to confront him with her real feelings didn't he? Why did he always have to explode at her like that? Why did he come after her, hurtling demand after demand, censure upon censure right in her face without even giving her the benefit of the doubt? Were misleading pictures more reliable than her? How could he think so little of her?

This night wasn't any better than the last, and though Gumi was swept away, she didn't drown. Hot fire burned in her belly as she glared at the blank wall she was huddled against. It dulled the ache in her chest and cleared the depressing fog in her mind. Pulling the pillow from under her head, she crushed it harshly over her face as she let loose her screams of frustration.

**Fukumiya Sui was an idiot!**

**Fukumiya Sui was a fucking idiot!**

**Bastard Fukumiya Sui was the biggest fucking idiot in the world!**

The spitting fire burnt itself out as quickly as it appeared, and the ache in her chest doubled. Weary, throat raw, and out of breath, Gumi resumed staring at the empty wall with half-lidded eyes. She didn't want to admit it. It twisted her tongue to even try.

But she was the bigger idiot for loving someone like Fukumiya Sui.

She dreamt of drifting on a purple sky filled with water, of clouds carrying her like a current around and around the world below. She felt removed from the people who lived their lives; the water muffling their conflicts and dissipating them before they could reach her waterlogged, impassive ears. Instead she listened to her heart beating steadily, providing a rhythm for her fingertips as they tapped ripples of a secret code across the surface. She knew she couldn't stay up here forever; it was the same way she knew she couldn't go back to where she was.

Her words of goodbye, when they left her lips, rode on miniscule bubbles of breath getting lost in the pinkening horizon.

—

End Interlude: Skyfish

Sorry for the transitory chapter. I wanted to compartmentalize Gumi's feelings to show that she isn't as unaffected as one may think. I'm not saying that after this, she'll be fine and dandy. I just don't want to scatter her depression all over the place. It'll still be there, but I won't be mentioning it much. 'Sides, Gumi is a strong girl despite being an idiot who sometimes makes wrong decisions. So ends Gumi's relationship with Sui, subtle as a train wreck in the boonies. Sorry, Sui. Let me buy you a beer.

If you're still hanging on, thank you! I know it takes tedious reading for a pairing where the other half of said pairing has only been a supporting role for the past five and a-half chapters. Gakupo will be more prominent from now on; and I can finally tack on the Romance tag once I add the next chapter. Brace yourselves!

Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter (welcome aboard, **Storm229**~ and I assure more Gakupo, **MonoKuromu-chan96**~)! I'd like to give special thanks to **bonbonchocolate**, **Laniessa** and **Ten-Faced** who, despite hating Sui for obvious reasons, still side with him on his need and his efforts to be loved by someone as flighty as Gumi. I dedicate this interlude to you.

_Skyfish_ is a song by powapowaP for Miku. Translation (t2i4DhGIpFA) by Kisekikui via YouTube.  
>I also selfishly wanted to use this song because of reasons. This was my biggest motivation. …teehee.<p>

(_052213_)


	7. ai think so,

Taking Your Picture  
><em>If you'd notice, we're just two in this world.<em>

Gumi peered at the bubbling batter a little too keenly; makeshift piping bag half-forgotten in one hand, spatula just as forgotten in the other. Something was wrong with her roommate. He never seemed to be around at all; in fact, until recently he was doing a pretty good job living up to his word about hardly being home. So why was he now sitting at the breakfast bar so early in the morning? Was it his day off again? Was she intruding on his personal time? Why was he in the kitchen knowing full well that she was in it?

"Um, Kamui-san..."

"'Oniichan.'"

"...Kamui-oniichan."

"'Gakupo-niichan.'"

Gumi pursed her lips to avoid suffering a sigh. Instead she flipped the batter over on the frying pan. A cartoon frog smiled cutely up at her as its raw bottom sizzled softly. "...Kamui Gakupo-niichan-san-sama."

"Stop making things hard for yourself. What is it?"

"You seem to have a lot of free time lately."

"Mm, yes. And?"

"Does it bother you that I'm here?"

"Not at all since you're so kind to make breakfast for me."

The frog-faced pancake she was just about to lay gently on a plate fell flat on it. "Eh?"

"Pancakes, right?" he asked, coming around to lean a hip against the counter next to the stove. He leaned over the plate, taking in the shape of the cake, and was amused. "Frogs. You like frogs?"

"Yes," she said, setting down the spatula. Taking the piping bag in both her hands, she drew the outline of another frog on the pan. Setting it aside, she ladled batter into the outline, filling it in. Taking up the piping bag once more, she redrew the outline outside of the original. The process was calming, and the steps were predictable.

"Does my presence in my own apartment bother you?" he asked.

"A little," she admitted. Flip. Her frog smiled up at her, its cheeky wink making her smile in turn. "I've almost forgotten I have a roommate."

"Is this a cry for attention? The pastries, the food..."

"Please don't read into it with those kinds of thoughts," Gumi said dryly as she removed the winking pancake and set it next to the previous one on the plate. "The rent is so cheap that I felt I needed to make up for it by at least doing this."

"Ah."

"I'm not surprised my food has tempted you to suffer my company, though," the girl said pertly, drawing an extremely cheerful frog next.

"I'm just glad you understand your familial obligation," the man next to her said lightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. "It's good to have a devoted little sister."

Gumi's hand froze over the spatula as she turned to level him with a look. "Keep it up and I won't feed you, _oniichan_."

Gakupo merely graced her with a smirk as he pushed away from the counter and walked toward the fridge. After opening and closing it without taking anything out, he walked back to his stool at the breakfast bar.

Happy to be left alone, the girl continued with her work; soon finishing with six frogs bearing various expressions of frivolity. She filled the gaps on the plate with blueberry-maple syrup, and rosied the frogs' cheeks with slices of strawberry. She turned, plate in hand, and set it down in front of his waiting royal highness.

"Your pancakes," she said simply before turning to make tea on the prep counter behind the breakfast bar.

"Where are yours?" he asked, watching her.

"That was supposed to be mine, but someone invited himself to breakfast." Pouring hot water into a teapot, she added pungent peach black tea leaves and let it steep for a moment. She fetched milk from the fridge and poured a portion into two mugs. With nothing left to do, she finally met his curious stare. "What?"

"You take half," he said, offering her his fork. "I can't let you starve. Don't you have work in a few hours? Why are you up so early?"

"So nosy," she wrinkled her nose.

"It's the brother's duty to be nosy," he said imperiously. "Well? Why are you up?"

"I couldn't sleep anymore, so I thought I'd walk around the blocks after I eat."

"You won't be cute if you don't sleep, you know. Al will be heartbroken."

"He'll live," she laughed, fondly recalling the big man's manly flustering over her. She knew it was because of his job, of course; she also had a feeling that Leon might have said something. It seemed head waiters were possessive of their staff—not to mention violently critical of each other and their management methods.

"You say that now, but wait 'til he sees those eye bags."

Gumi's fingers self-consciously flew up to the slightly puffy areas under her eyes. "It's called seven-in-the-morning," she scowled at him, taking the fork he waved in front of her. "You're so mean, oniichan."

"Yes, yes. I'm mean," he said easily, reaching for another fork and mangling one frog.

Gumi set down a bowl of strawberries next to the plate of pancakes, resting her fork on the edge of it. After checking the tea, she poured it into the mugs of milk; watching the two liquids blooming and blending into each other. With the subtle and sweet scent of peaches filling the air, she said quietly, "Hey."

"Hm?"

She meant to tell him about the pictures; that someone saw them together and most likely followed them to the apartment building. But when she looked up from the warmed mugs, she saw that he seemed tired. In fact, he looked like he hadn't slept even though he was dressed in what she termed his house clothes. She frowned and asked instead, "When was the last time _you_ slept?"

He waved her question away and forked a strawberry in his mouth. "Not important," he said after swallowing, and frowned when she persisted. "I'll sleep after breakfast."

Satisfied, Gumi nodded; and then wondered why she felt that way. As she served her roommate his tea and drank her own, she thought that maybe she was playing her role a little too well. Whatever the reason, she needed to tone it down if only to stop Gakupo from gloating about how pampered he was by her.

Her stomach gurgled audibly. It seemed the milk tea wasn't enough. Without a word, Gakupo pushed the plate of pancakes sideways to the empty spot next to him. Picking up his tea, he left the kitchen. Seconds later, sounds from the television drifted past the open doorway.

The pancakes were already cold by the time she ate them, but she saw that he left her with the happiest-looking frogs and the biggest strawberries. Gumi thought that it was a very brotherly thing to do. After she ate and cleaned up, she told him to let her know if he was going to eat breakfast so she could prepare enough for the two of them next time. Without waiting for his response, she continued into the bathroom for the rest of her morning ablutions.

There, she spent a considerable amount of time making sure that the puffiness around her eyes was indeed gone. It was only after she was assured of the fact that she finally left the bathroom.

...and bumped right into Gakupo.

Her hands shot out to grasp at him just as he held on to her shoulders to steady her. "Sorry," she said, wide eyes finding his mildly curious ones. His eyes always seemed to fascinate her as much as she had the impulse to immediately look away from them. Lighter than the deep purple of his hair, they suited him. He bore them well.

"I have to use the bathroom," he said simply. His hands were unnaturally warm on her shoulders, temperature seeping through even her clothing, making her realize she was just the slightest bit chilled. His forearms, too, were warm beneath her touch; whipcord muscles unhampered even by the soft barriers of cloth and flesh.

Blinking, Gumi immediately released his arms, and he likewise let go as she stepped aside. "All yours," she said a little too brightly, and fled to her room for her things.

Busily she flitted from one corner of her quarters to the next: taking her camera bag from the desk, her sling bag from the floor next to the bed, unplugging her phone from its charger on her dresser. Patting down pockets and zipping zippers for her keys, she surveyed her room one last time for anything she might have forgotten.

Almost mockingly, sunlight happily streamed in through her window, bathing her room in a soft yellow glow. Everywhere the light touched—her inherited furniture, the floor, the walls, and even herself—seemed to make everything _warm_ and _fuzzy_. Halloween mornings were ever so deceiving. Gumi made herself smile. If she held on to it long enough, it would become real.

Camera, wallet, phone, keys...and jacket. She was set.

She left her room quietly—expecting Gakupo to have gone to bed—and made her way down the short hall. The television was still on in the living room, and the man she thought had gone to sleep was lounging on the couch. One arm was slung over the back of the furniture, fingers indulgently splayed. Gakupo fit right in with the furniture and the room, making it all the more like something out of a design magazine. She supposed he should, since it was his apartment.

Gumi continued to the foyer, stepping into her shoes.

"Have fun today," Gakupo called from the couch, and her hand stopped on the door handle.

It had been so long since someone sent her off, but she managed to say her thanks.

—

The dress was made to offset her small frame, the square neckline perfectly presenting her collar and chest. The slight puff in the shoulders and the wideness of her skirt gave her more presence than her normal clothes ever could. She twirled and the dress whispered; black silk ribbons fluttering with the peeking chiffon layer, trailing up the dove gray satin material of the dress in vertical stripes right up to the neckline. Gumi was enchanted.

Rin stood next to her, snapping on a pure white apron to the attached buttons at her front. Miku was adjusting the simple flat bonnet to accommodate her hair, letting the ribbons weave in and out the strands.

"Wow," Gumi whispered in awe of the finery they presented.

"You can say that again," her blonde friend grinned.

"Gumi-chan, where's your collar?" Miku asked, holding her hand out. "I can put it on for you if you like."

"The collar feels stuffy," the green-haired girl whined but complied, grudgingly turning around and fussing with her short gloves. It covered just the hand, leaving the wrist and the heel completely bare. It was open in an oval at the back of the hand, and was edged with very small ruffles.

A knock sounded at the door of their dressing room, and Leon's voice from behind it asked if they were ready. As one, the day shift waitresses filed out to stand at attention beside the door where Leon and Len stood waiting with Ann, both men looking like Old World butlers in their morning coats. Rin, upon seeing her brother looking even shorter than ever standing next to the older man, hid a snort behind her hand.

Tête-à-Tête's proprietor cleared her throat, eyeing her staff speculatively. Gumi tried not to squirm under the woman's stare; but the short frilled collar around her neck tickled with new sensation, and she couldn't avoid reaching up to rub away the tingling on her skin where the frills touched.

Ann looked at Gumi, blue eyes intense. "Does it itch?" she asked.

"I'm just not used to it, Oneesama," Gumi answered, looking down. Her hand fell away from her collar to lay against her skirt. "I'll be fine after a few hours."

"We don't have hours," the owner said, a silent command to get used to it immediately. "The others will handle the menu today. You lot will be taking pictures for the café. A magazine has approached us with an interest in our daytime and nighttime activities. They're waiting on the floor right now, and I expect you all to conduct yourselves as people befitting the pride of Tête-à-Tête."

"Yes!"

"Stop scratching," Rin hissed next to her as the waitstaff dispersed toward the main floor. "It's turning red. You don't want that to appear in the pictures, do you?"

Gumi kept her hands away from her neck, and miserably endured the unwelcome tickling every time the collar brushed against her skin. Entertaining the magazine people was even a welcome distraction as she managed to answer a question or two and pose for a picture with Leon. When they left, pleased as they got what they came for, she fled to the lockers to apply lotion around her neck and collar. It helped, even if just a little, and she was able to endure the first half of her Sunday shift.

Halloween was a celebrated day in the University district. It gave the young adults a chance to enjoy the last vestiges of childhood before shedding it completely to don the responsibilities of adulthood. For one day of the year, they were able to just be themselves and enjoy. The shops in Ensou encouraged their patrons to come fully dressed in costumes; the running tradition was that if they did, they got a discount or some other promotional trinket. Candy rewards in abundance were also without question.

Most of Tête-à-Tête's day visitors came dressed in the best of 1800s fashion, of whom sported the ever popular Gothic Lolita in a nod to the festive occasion. Bats, spiders, and mangled dolls were the preferred popular items to tote, draping over shoulders and hanging off hats. They were all elaborate, all beautiful, and yet the café and its staff held its ground in true Parisian grandeur when compared to its patrons.

The new uniforms were accepted with a zealousness that could only be compared to a store unveiling a new line of clothing. Many pictures were taken of the staff in their natural states, which pleased Ann to no end. It was Gumi's understanding that the owner always had an active part in the design of her shop's uniforms.

Leon granted her a proud smile as she came to rest her arms on the bar counter in front of him. "You did well," he praised. "I was worried the new dress would impede your movements."

"I've had training," the green-haired girl grinned widely. "The tables at night will be harder to move in, though. I think I might actually hit people with my skirt."

"I wouldn't worry about that," the older man chuckled, and turned around when he noticed Al come up behind him. "You, on the other hand... Why do you always leave your cigarette butts on the ground by the staff door? Is it not common courtesy to pick up after yourself?"

"Whoah, what?" the redhead backed up, his brows knit in confusion at the blond's sudden confrontation. "Where's this coming from? I only smoke at home."

"Do you really enjoy making me do unnecessary work every morning?"

"I'm tellin' you, you stinky old fart, it ain't me!"

Gumi quietly snuck away from the bickering men, deciding to hide out in the kitchen for the time being. Rin and the others had gone home to have dinner, making plans to come back later in the evening to celebrate the night. In the hallway, she ran into Ann who was just coming out of her office.

"What are you doing still dressed like that?" the buxom blonde asked, immediately herding Gumi into the women's changing rooms. "Hurry up and put on your night shift uniform."

"Eh?"

"Didn't I tell you last time? If you're going to be on night shift for the whole season, you may as well dress the part. Go on."

The door she opened revealed Meiko and Luka in various stages of dress. The brunette was strapping on an open bust velvet frock over a wide necked peasant blouse. The pink-haired woman was making sure the ruffly, open front skirt she wore covered the vertical-striped bloomers underneath. Even half-naked, they both looked so classy.

Both women looked up at her entrance, smiling at her before resuming their primping. "Check it out, Gumi-chan," Luka said excitedly, executing a twirl. Her rich chocolate skirt flew, revealing creamy thighs not even the three tiers could cover. "I can dance with you now!"

"Cute dress by the way," Meiko commented distractedly as she slipped into a pair of tight breeches.

"Oh yes," Luka agreed, rolling a thick, vertical-striped stocking up to her thigh. "Let me finish with these and I'll help you get out of it."

"I can manage," Gumi assured her, feeling relieved to remove the detachable collar from her neck. She eyed her other costume hanging by the door as she undressed. It was covered in clear plastic, and from what she could tell, she was going to be wearing high-waist jumper shorts and a vertical-striped, short-sleeved button-up.

The three of them exchanged light chatter as they dressed, and it wasn't until Gumi slid on the fingerless gloves that she realized what she looked like; what Meiko and Luka looked like. Thick vertical stripes, monochromic cream and rich chocolate, brass buckles and natural dark brown leather; it was Gumi's dream come true.

"I love Oneesama," Gumi breathed, eyeing the most beautiful pair of burnished brass goggles in her hands. Meiko and Luka were attaching the final touches of their costumes; the former clipping on a chained monocle, the latter slipping an old spyglass into the holder at her thick leather belt.

"You can move freely now," Meiko eyed her shorts approvingly. There was only a small hiccup of skin where her shorts ended and the thigh-highs began, and Gumi rubbed the inside of her socked knees against one another as she grinned at the older woman. She was eager to get back onto the floor now that she was in less-restrictive clothing. Following the women out, she was glad that she was in platform boots rather than the sloping heels her co-workers confidently strode in.

A whistle greeted them as they emerged from behind the bar. Al was dressed like a cavalier steam captain down to the rolled-up sleeves and the cravat at his neck. His hat laid at the bar at his elbow, insolently forgotten. Kiyoteru was already manning the bar, dressed like a first mate. Kaito, who looked like a boiler room engineer, was at the stage with his guitar.

"Looks like everyone's here," night shift's head waiter clapped his hands once, drawing their attention. "The Mistress just told me we're gonna be entertaining some magazine people. Since we're on a tight schedule, only a few of us will be talking to 'em."

"Like who?" Meiko asked speculatively as she adjusted the leather body harness wrapping tightly around her.

"Kamui's already in there," the big man replied. "Meiko-chan will go next, followed by Hiyama."

"Pass," the bartender said stoically.

"Oy, you..."

"They're not after the drinks I make," the bespectacled man said. "I'm not interested. Pass."

"You should go then, Al-san," Luka urged gently, smiling as she strode up to him and laid a hand on his arm. "You're our fearless leader after all."

Gumi wandered over to Kaito after doing a few runs between the tables, leaning against the wall as she watched everyone. The musician turned his head to look at her, his hand suspended over guitar strings. "Something the matter?" he asked.

"Hiding," she whispered at him, making him chuckle and return to his playing. The chord progression attracted Meiko, who sauntered over and started into a song extolling the spookier aspects of Halloween. The two went back and forth, singing lines at each other; their practice seemed to rouse the others into doing the same, and Gumi was compelled to dance another round among the tables.

—

"I know we've been meaning to drop in on you at work to see what the fuss was about," Rin was hollering in her ear above the blare of music and chattering people around them. "I thought you were exaggerating. I never thought Kamui-san could be that affectionate."

"I told you," Gumi hollered back, grinning fiercely. It was the last hour until closing time and the mood was infectious. Over the course of the night, more and more of the café's customers set aside their drinks and started dancing to the fast-paced numbers that the staff kept up. Now, her shift long over, she was standing with Rin by the wall as they watched the mass of bodies bobbing and weaving to Gakupo's hypnotic sound. "I'm used to it though," she said as the blonde asked her how she managed.

"Well, it's not like it's unwanted attention, eh?" her friend elbowed her side teasingly. "Does the boyfriend get jealous?"

"Where has Miku-san gone, I wonder?" Gumi said out loud, looking everywhere but in the blonde's direction.

"Aha! He does!" Rin laughed. "Oh, I feel so sorry for you. Are you guys still fighting? He knows it's just work, right? Hey, Gumi? Heeey."

"Oh, there she is," the green-haired girl said triumphantly, pointing out the light-haired woman standing among the other people closest to the stage. "It's almost time to close, isn't it?" she asked Rin, who was not amused with her obvious avoidance. At her friend's expression, her smile faltered and shrunk. "He broke up with me a few days ago," she said quietly at a coincidental lull in the music.

"Thank you very much for making this night come alive," Gakupo was saying on stage. "Please enjoy this last number."

"What do you mean he broke up with you?!" Rin yelled beside her. The pause in the music made her voice carry over the crowd, and the people closest to them turned their heads to look on curiously. Len, who had been walking toward them with drinks in hand, swiftly turned back around and returned to the bar.

Gumi's face warmed from the attention, yet instead of turning to hush her friend, her gaze drifted over the crowd to meet her roommate's. Even he was looking at her, infuriatingly so, with that same raised eyebrow she now knew to be his most annoying (expressive) facial feature. The look of him, like he was blaming her for the disturbance, finally made her turn away to placate the young woman beside her.

Rin was predictably complacent after Gumi took her outside and told her what happened a few days ago. She was instead upset that the breakup took place on the same day that they had dinner together.

"I should have known something was wrong," the blonde sighed. "You didn't even call or text that day. But I thought you two were all right. Didn't you guys make up that time? You had a really stupid grin going on when I left you."

"I wasn't completely honest with him," she admitted, "and I don't blame you. I wasn't really ready to talk about it, and I didn't want to ruin the food with awkward news."

"Speaking of food, I am going to take you on the biggest food binge until you feel better," Rin promised. "But to be honest, Gumi, I'm glad you two broke up. If he wasn't someone you could be open with, even for who you have as a roommate, you obviously weren't that comfortable around him."

"I could have been, though?" Gumi wondered wistfully, kicking a cigarette butt out of sight and deeper into the alley they stood in. "I know I blew it," she assured her friend, who looked about to remind her that she had fucked up astronomically in the eyes of Sui. She, of all people, was most aware of that particular fact. "But to say you're glad we broke up..."

"Of course I'm glad! I'm relieved! I never liked the way he treated you, anyway. You can definitely find someone better."

"But"—"And don't bother talking to me about what could have been between you two. We can definitely talk enough about _that_ to fill a library and we still won't get anywhere."

"For closure?" Gumi dared a sideways glance at the blonde leaning against the wall next to her, and found her doing the same. "Fine," she heard her friend sigh, "go through the motions. The sooner you get it out, the sooner you can go back to enjoying your life."

She smiled, feeling grateful to have someone so pragmatic like Rin in her life. "True, I've been feeling like crap lately."

"And you wonder why I have no interest in relationships," Rin muttered, crossing her arms. "I have enough on my plate dealing with Len—and he with me I guess—to bother letting another person into my life like that."

They were both quiet for a while, contemplating the blonde's lack of romantic relationships.

"So you and Kamui-san, huh," Rin said. "Must be one hell of a roommate."

"He's hardly home."

"I still have a hard time believing it. You agreeing to room with him, I mean."

"He was very persuasive"—Gumi blushed at the leer her friend was giving her—"not like that! There wasn't anywhere else cheaper or closer enough to school!"

"Riiiight," Rin snickered, but quickly sobered, nodding. "I'm not saying I understand you completely, but whatever makes you feel safe and content makes me less worried about you too."

Gumi looked down at her shoes, feeling sufficiently awkward from the sensitive topic. "Yeah."

They both looked up when people started coming out of the café, carrying with them good cheer and loud chatter. "Guess it's over," Rin said for the sake of saying something, and checked the time on her phone. "We've got an hour 'til the trains stop. Do you want to hang around a bit? Maybe talk?"

"I'm all right," Gumi smiled. "But could I come over again this week?"

"Of course! I'll cook this time. Or help out. Or eat the ingredients. Whatever you need." The declaration made her laugh, and she would have come back with a brilliant rejoinder if Len didn't come out to interrupt them with a message from Al to help return the tables and chairs. Instead, Gumi sent them off while she returned to the café for her task.

"If you hadn't been dancing, the customers wouldn't have been tempted," Big Al grumbled, hauling tables by the stacks with both arms.

"If you guys hadn't been singing, I wouldn't have been tempted," Gumi returned cheekily, trailing after him with two chairs.

"Don't you be cute with me, missy," the man snarled halfheartedly, making her grin widely at his back. "Though it was easier to mop the floors with everything out of the way," he muttered almost quietly to himself.

"You're welcome."

"What did you say?"

"You're very welcome, Al-san," she said sweetly.

"I'm going to have words with your brother about your attitude," Al said disgustedly, looking for all the world like he had eaten something terrible. The expression looked childish on his strong-angled face. "The bastard has ruined you. You used to be so adorable."

"My ears are burning," Gakupo said dryly, appearing behind the bar dressed in his street clothes. Ignoring Al's death glares with a smoothness only someone as self-assured as he could manage, he turned to Gumi and asked, "Are you done? I'm tired."

"You can go ahead," she offered as she passed by the bar on the way to the back room. "Al-san can take me home, right, Al-san?"

"Sure," the man said absently as he returned with more tables. It was a testament to the head waiter's strength that he was able to haul around marble and iron with enviable ease.

Gakupo said nothing more, coming around instead to help her with the chairs. They finished up much quickly with his help, which prompted Al to make a jab at the purple-haired man's overprotective brotherly instincts. The man in turn took a stab at Al's creepy, pedophilic behavior toward his cute sister.

It was becoming increasingly usual for the two to exchange such barbs with each other whenever Gumi was around, and somehow she knew that they were both doing it for her amusement. So she giggled whenever they started, because it really was amusing to witness two grown men arguing like children.

"All right, I give up for now," Al conceded. "But only because it's getting late and Gumi-chan looks dead on her feet. You better get her home safely, you hear me?"

Gakupo didn't bother giving him a reply, leaving it to Gumi to say their goodbyes and quickly follow her roommate out to the streets. A few leaping steps later, she was on stride with his pace.

Ensou cleared pretty quickly for a Halloween night, although they passed stragglers here and there idling against walls or walking leisurely around the square. Most of them were dressed in costumes, and a few of them called out the usual scary epithets to get a rise out of the passersby. Gakupo was unfazed, though Gumi squeaked when a Jason leapt at her from a blind alley.

She chalked it up to fear for instinctively hiding behind him; the same way she chalked it up to his chivalric sense of duty for stepping in front of her. (He laughed afterward at her skittishness, however.)

Their journey home was unusually quiet, which bothered her because she was so used to their meaningless banter. She long since thought of it as part of their going-home ritual even though it had only been a few short weeks since they started going home together. Gumi didn't like this silence. It made her think of things she would rather not think about, and it made her anxious.

"You two should get along better," she scolded him lightly when the silence between them was getting unbearable.

"If you're talking about Al-san, he started it."

She couldn't refute him for that, and swallowed when she realized there was nothing else to talk about. Of course, there was one thing she had been putting off for a while; and loath as she was to bring it up, she needed to. Nervously, she licked her lips. "By the way..."

That infernal eyebrow started to rise.

"I have something I need to talk to you about. Will you come up for a bit when we get home?"

He looked at her from his seat across the cabin aisle; the silence between them punctuated only by the train speeding them back toward KKon. He did look tired, and seeing him made her wonder just what he did for a living that required him to work at the oddest hours.

"Is it something that can't be discussed here?" he asked. "Nobody else is around."

To emphasize his point, the cabin clanked audibly. Had it been filled with people, the noise wouldn't have been heard.

Gumi looked away first, her hands busying themselves with the zipper of her messenger bag. She didn't know why she carried it around with her, but it was a symbol—a reminder—of what happened between her and Sui. It was a little worn from lack of care, its corners and sides slightly frayed from being jostled unprotected in her bag; but the image of the two people still looked the same. She took the photo out, looking at it one last time, before standing up and handing it over to him.

The silence was thicker than ever in the train's cabin as Gakupo took the paper into his hand. She knew when he recognized the subjects in the photo: the eyebrow he so favored in raising went immediately down, and his expression closed off from mildly inquisitive to empty. If she hadn't been watching him, she wouldn't have noticed at all.

She remained standing, looking at him as she told him about how the photo got into her possession. Her grip on the pole supporting the seats was tight; she liked to believe she was holding on to keep her balance. She left out the more dramatic events, simply choosing to say that her boyfriend anonymously received a bunch of pictures that tracked both Gakupo and her all the way from the shop in Ensou, to the twins' apartment in KKon, and later to his.

She never saw his gaze waver from the photo in his hand. He seemed to stare at it intently as he listened to her; or at least she hoped he was listening.

"Sorry," she finished lamely.

His head snapped up, amethyst eyes finding her in a split second and rooting her to the spot. She fought the urge to shy behind the pole to which she anchored herself. "What for?" he asked.

"I'm bringing you trouble. Someone has figured out where you live." She finally directed her gaze away to the floor. "I won't be surprised if you ask me to move."

His sigh was audible in the silence that signaled their arrival at their stop. He led her out onto the deserted platform; and remained quiet until they were out of the station, well on their way back to the apartment. The streets were deserted; the buses had long since stopped running. They seemed to be the only two people on the block, surrounded as they were by dark buildings and deserted sidewalks.

"You should be worrying about yourself," Gakupo eventually murmured beside her. "You're the one affected."

"But you're getting dragged into it too."

"It's not a problem for me. We can talk to Al-san about it next time. You did say the photos were all of us heading home from the café right?"

Gumi frowned, but nodded, "Yeah."

"Then it's a good place to start. Whoever it is apparently followed us from there." He looked at her and gently laid his hand on her hair for a brief moment. "You were right to tell me, so don't worry," he said, pulling away.

"You're not angry?"

He looked at her oddly. "Of course not. If I were really someone who would get angry over something like this, I wouldn't have bothered having a roommate at all."

"Oh," was all Gumi could say to that.

"Is it because of me?"

"Eh?"

"That you broke up with your boyfriend," he flapped the photo between his fingers like it was something dangerous, his gaze solemn. "Is it because of me?"

She blinked. "So you did hear that," a surprised laugh slipped out of her. "Don't be silly!"

She smiled at him and turned away, looking ahead. A sadness was lodging itself in her throat, growing bigger by the second. He didn't have to ask that outright. The question made her think (yet again) of the argument that ended her relationship with Sui; and her recent relationship was the last thing she wanted to discuss with him. Unlike with Rin, Gumi would not ever be ready to open up to her roommate about that aspect of her life.

Kamui Gakupo was just her roommate after all.

It took her a few swallows to even attempt speaking; and when she did, her voice carried a fragile note as it hung in the air. "I hope you'll stay as my gay brother, Gakupo-niichan," she said quietly.

As much as she tried to leave him blameless, the non-answer only served to condemn him simply for his existence. But she couldn't take it back because in her deepest, angriest thoughts, she did blame him.

If he hadn't tried too hard to convince her to rent from him...

If he hadn't been the one at the other end of that email...

If he simply hadn't been a man...

She was stupid.

They reached their apartment building without incident; and before leaving her at their door, Gakupo asked her what breakfast was for tomorrow.

—

End Chapter 7: Ai think so,

Hang in there, Gakupo!

My sincerest thanks to you guys for hanging on as well, **Beiowulf**, **MonoKuromu-chan96**, **cloudy eve**, **Laniessa**, **Ten-Faced** (please spare me from spam, although I do like SPAM), **Storm229**, and to the silent ones out there! You keep me going. You make me melt. Most importantly, you make me think. Your feedback helps me!

Since I doubt I can post snippets or alternate points of view at the end of this story... Gumi was wrong at figuring out when she started dreaming in the previous chapter. Find the Gakupo insert!

Go nuts over the night shift's new uniforms at steampunkcouture dot com. I know I did. I apologize if the clothing descriptions made your brain fizz out.

_Ai think so,_ is a song by Deco*27 for Miku and later Topi. Translation by Marble via AnimeLyrics.

(_060613_)


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